Her Defenses
by bleedingrose0688
Summary: "What do you two see in me that makes you want to try and fix me?" A new life in Boston meant giving up everything she had back home. That never meant that she had to give up her defenses at the same time. Rated M for language and (future) adult situations.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: I have not written anything in the world of fan fiction in years so needless to say, I am a bit on the rusty side. This will be a slow burn story so if you hang in there, I promise there will be juicy bits in later chapters. Comments/reviews/criticisms are welcome._

 **Chapter 1**

"The night was…"

So, here I am again on another Friday night, it is payday and the end of a long week. I should be out having dinner at the bar with a few friends or kicking back a few brews at a hockey game, but no. I am at home in my pajamas watching _Throw Momma From the Train_. I would feel somewhat lonely if it wasn't for the fact that I have two cats; both of whom are curled up sleeping on both my legs, only waking when I cannot stop myself from laughing at Danny DeVito hitting Billy Crystal in the head with a cast iron frying pan while the eggs go flying to the floor.

It wasn't until the movie was over that I received a message from an old friend from back home that I realized how much I missed my old life. I had moved my entire life and my cats away as well as sold my house all while taking the risk of jumping head first into my career field and starting back to school for my Master's. I was more than relieved when I got the call back saying that I got the job. It was a lab technician position at the USS Constitution Museum; it was entry level, but at that point I would take just about anything as long as I got to put my Bachelor's to work for me. I did not spend all that time and money to get it and have it go to waste. Shortly after I started at the museum, I began to rediscover my love of archaeology and decided that the next logical step was to go back and work on my Master's. Granted, anthropology is a pretty limited field as a whole, but being able to find a school that would enable me pursue my ambitions was tougher than finding a job and a roof over my head. I eventually settled on Boston University to pursue a Master's in Forensic Anthropology as well as talk a few people into letting me enroll in the Linguistics program as an undergrad.

To say the least, I managed to keep myself busy but between work and school, I always felt like I was neglecting my cats. I quickly texted my friend back, changed into a pair of jeans and grabbed the cats' harnesses and leashes. Trust me, I know it may look strange to walk a pair of cats on leashes on the streets of Boston, but the boys love being out in the fresh air and it's a good excuse to not have to a) clean out the litter boxes and b) watch them fill it up again not even 5 minutes later. Who could argue with free fertilizer?

Generally speaking, I haven't left my apartment much since moving to Boston. I have some family here, but I had only met them once and I wished it had been under better circumstances when I did. Before moving here, I made sure to brush up on the carrying concealed laws. My dad was always cautious about me owning my own home and was adamant about keeping at least something with me at all times as a means of protection. Not only because he wanted me to be able to protect myself, but also because I have always been so independent that he was just scared for my safety.

I went with my gut tonight and decided to not only carry my pepper spray with me, but I also strapped my pistol to the belt loops of my jeans. It wasn't anything fancy; my dad had given me a Sig Sauer P229 as a parting gift. The best advice he'd given me to date was to make sure it was always loaded with one in the chamber. I never thought I would actually have to use it, but it was better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.

I managed to get the boys into their harnesses and attached the leashes with relatively few scratches this time around. Normally they tag-team me with one going after my arms and the other going after my legs, but once I managed to get the door of the apartment opened they ran out as quickly as they could. The building that I live in would not have been my first choice but considering that it was cheap, err… rather illegal loft housing, I took my chances. I had been mooching off my aunt & uncle for the first few months that I had been in Boston and even though they insisted that it was no trouble for me to stay there, I loved having my own space so when this place opened up I took it. I always hated riding on this fucking rickety elevator, but you just have to conquer your fears of being stuck in one, right?

I would've kissed the ground when the elevator stopped, but not knowing what kinds of things had fallen on the ground, I opted for a quick "thank God!" The boys had a pleasant walk despite getting the odd looks from strangers and a group of teenagers exclaiming "black cats are bad luck" when we passed by. Yes, black cats have a bad reputation, especially with today being Friday the 13th, but my boys are nothing but sweethearts who want nothing more than to be loved. I wish I could say though that the way back home was just as pleasant. They freaked the fuck out when a siren started going off just a few blocks away followed by gun shots, so I had the misfortune of carrying them back home. It was times like this that I'm also thankful that I grabbed their carrier before we left.

Once the boys were safely stowed away in their carrier, I high-tailed it back home but as I crossed in front of one of the alleys I felt something catch on my hair. In my naivety, I had thought it was just caught on some invisible force like a spider web. I felt myself being dragged backwards into the alley when my instincts kicked in; I hated having to do it, but I dropped the carrier my cats were in and pulled the pepper spray from my pocket. Unfortunately, I panicked and dropped the canister. My attacker threw me against the wall and upon glancing up saw that his face was covered (the pepper spray wouldn't have done any good had I been able to use it). My head hit the wall pretty hard so I had no clue what it was he was muttering, something about killing me and then killing my cats. There was no way in hell some stupid motherfucker was going to hurt my cats.

Before I had a chance to grab my pistol out the holster, I felt a sharp sting pierce through my left shoulder. "Did you just fucking stab me?" I was shocked and in disbelief that it actually happened and believe it or not it was the only thing I could think to say.

He wrenched the blade around in my shoulder for what seemed like an eternity, but the adrenaline coursing through my veins told me to grab the pistol and fire away. I did just that. I flipped the safety off and pressed the barrel into his left shoulder. Payback was a bitch; I squeezed the trigger and put a round through his shoulder (it's only fair, right?) Once he lurched back in pain, I squeezed off a couple more rounds, not really caring where they hit, put the safety back on, grabbed the cats, and ran like hell all the back home.

It wasn't until I reached the confines of the elevator that I heard an accented voice ask if I was alright, exclaiming that I looked like I just ran a half marathon in a somewhat amused tone of voice. I muttered, more to myself, that I was fine and quickly climbed out once the elevator reached the third floor. I wanted nothing more at this point than to get the cats inside and check them for any injuries. My cats mean everything to me and if anything were to happen to them, I don't know what I'd do. They are like my kids and I would do all in my power to make sure they were safe. It didn't dawn on me that in my haste to make sure the cats were okay that I had forgotten to lock the deadbolt and throw the chain on the door.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thank you to those who commented and/or followed thus far, it really does mean a lot knowing that this is not just sitting out in cyber space collecting dust. I will do my best to update this as often as I can (probably around every 2 weeks or so), however I just closed on my first house and in the process of moving so I may not have a lot of time in between working and packing. Comments/reviews/criticisms welcome._

 **Chapter 2**

As the sound of a floor board somewhere near the threshold creaked under the heel of a heavy footstep hit my ears, I quickly threw the door to the cat carrier back in place and made a grab for my pistol. I had just managed to get the safety off when a strong grip latched onto my wrist and twisted it around, forcing me to drop my only means of protection. My head quickly shot up only to be met with a pair of blue eyes and a nameless face.

"Fer someone who claims to be fine, ya certainly don't look it," he said rather calmly as he eased his grip on my wrist. "I don't t'ink I've ever seen ya around here before, actually I've never seen anyone in der right mind walking a pair of cats on a leash before either."

"Mind telling me what you're doing in my home? I certainly don't remember handing out invitations for tonight." I couldn't help it; I was just mugged, had to use my gun for the first time on another human being, and now I have a strange (yet gorgeous) man in my run-down apartment. I don't know who this person is or what his motives are, but all defenses are up and it'll take more than a pair of pretty blues eyes to tear down my walls.

"Well, to start, you practically run me and me brudder over trying to get into the lift; secondly, you're bleeding through that shirt pretty bad; and t'ird, ya dropped your keys. But now that I t'ink about it, I'd like to know what the fuck you're doing carrying _this_ around?" He questioned, picking my Sig up off the floor and making sure the safety was back on.

I was at a bit of a loss of what to do at this point. I quickly grabbed the gun from his hand and replaced it back in its holster before returning to my task of checking on the cats. I pulled one of the boys out of the carrier and took his harness off, then began looking him over from nose to tail, back to belly. Once I made sure the first one was unharmed, I checked his brother. Both passed with flying colors and I was more than relieved. Completely ignoring the stranger in my home, I set about putting everything away and getting the boys their bedtime snack. When I was satisfied that all was in order I returned my attention to Mr. Blue Eyes. In all honesty, the chores I set for myself took all of 10 minutes; plenty of time to think of an answer to his statements and question.

"First, I was just dragged into an alley at knife-point. I ran the 'half-marathon' according to your brother to get away from the meth head. Second, I'm bleeding because said meth head used the fucking blade on me. And third, I carry because it was what my dad taught me when I was growing up and I had to use it for the first time tonight. Now if you will excuse me, I have to make a phone call and hope to God that I have not contracted Hepatitis C, HIV, or something worse and end up having to pray for death."

With that, I snatched the keys that my blue-eyed stranger had still been holding, went into the kitchen and grabbed my cell phone and a bottle of Jack out of the fridge. I took a long, healthy dose of liquid courage and began to dial the number of the nearest precinct. While I was waiting on hold, he cleared his throat to get my attention.

"You're not from around here are ya? Most people know dat the Boston PD is pretty unreliable. If you had to shoot someone to save yourself, then you had too. No point in feeling guilty about it. As for your shoulder, if you want, me brudder and I could walk you down to the nearest hospital for them to take a look at it. Probably jus' needs a few stiches, but you're right though about needing some blood work done to check for anything."

He has a good point, at least about the blood work anyway and being a bit of a hermit has left me without knowing where the nearest hospital was. I sighed heavily, not really wanting to let a complete stranger know anything about me, but even introverted people open up at some point in time.

"I'm from St. Louis if that means anything. We may have a reputation for being one of the worst cities in the country in more than one aspect, but at least when an honest, middle-class, blue-collar citizen is forced to use their gun, we have the decency to call it in. I could care less if that son of a bitch lives or dies; what I do care about is that the right people know that it was done in self-defense."

Eventually a detective picked up on the other end stating they'd send someone in the morning since they were short-staffed with that triple homicide that was just a few blocks away. 'So that's what happened when those shots rang out,' I thought to myself as I hung the phone up. I turned around to find that Blue Eyes was still standing in my living room with his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans as he scuffed a boot across my floor.

"If I let you and your brother take me to the nearest hospital, will you both bring me straight back home afterwards?" I questioned, looking quite serious. Again, I had no idea who this man was or if the person in the elevator with him was really his brother. For that matter, I didn't have the slightest clue on whether or not they would fulfill their promise of taking me to the hospital or if they would drag me off somewhere and I'd just end up being another statistic to the city's murder rate.

He nodded his head and scratched at his chin for a moment before he answered. I was hoping this was out of nervousness and not some hidden agenda. If I agreed to go with them, I'd have to leave my gun at home or face possible arrest for bringing it in the building.

"If that's what you want, we'll bring you straight home after you're done. Boston at night can be even more dangerous den what you just experienced and it wouldn't be safe for anyone in their right mind to be out by themselves even with a gun for protection. By the way, I don't think I ever caught your name."

He glanced up, trying to be slick about it, but he wasn't going to be getting any kind of personal information out of me anytime soon. The fact that I told him where I was originally from was a bit unnerving.

"My name is whatever you want it to be. Go get your brother and I'll meet you outside the elevator in 5 minutes. I need to get changed out of this bloody shirt."

Deciding to be, somewhat, nice I walked him to the door and reminded him to be back in 5 minutes. After I double-checked that the door was locked and the chain was thrown I resigned myself to going into the bedroom to change out my ruined t-shirt. It wasn't one of my favorite ones anyway, but it was comfortable enough to sleep in. Rather than just throwing it away immediately, I decided to fold it up and use an old belt to hold it in place until we got to the hospital. It was a make-shift bandage, but it would do in a pinch; I wrote myself a note to pick up more supplies for my first aid kits, both at home and at work. I wasn't anticipating another stab wound, but field work for an archaeologist can get pretty dangerous if you're not careful.

I met Blue Eyes outside my apartment exactly 5 minutes later along with his brother. They didn't look like brothers on first glance, but they had the same blue eyes and the same short, disheveled hair styles. At least they were not completely identical. We walked to the elevator together and they allowed me in first (I guess chivalry isn't dead after all).

"Since you're not in the mood to be giving up your name or anything about yourself for that matter, I'm Murphy and this is me brudder, Connor."

I gave a slight nod and kept my silence up during our walk to the hospital. The pain in my shoulder was just shy of unbearable now that the adrenaline had worn off and fatigue was taking its place. I just wanted this day to be over with so I could curl up in bed with my cats and try to forget everything that happened tonight.

The night was pretty fucking shitty if you ask me; how could it possibly get any worse?


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

" _MOTHERFUCKER!_ " I exclaimed nearly flying off the exam room table and through the ceiling.

Apparently my meth head attacker had done a bit more damage than anticipated and, according to the x-rays and the doctor, I would temporarily lose the use of my left arm for a couple of weeks. It turns out that the blade had worked its way through some muscle, started tearing through some tendons, and scraped along the lower portion of my collar bone.

"Miss, before I attempt to put another stitch in, I'm going to have the nurse come in and give you a local anesthetic. We'll let that kick in and then I'll be back to finish up." I had opted to get the stitches done without any type of numbing agent in the vain hope that the adrenaline that picked back up upon our arrival would be enough to get me through. How wrong I was.

With that, the doctor disappeared behind the curtain and was replaced by a nurse who was making notes all over my chart. God forbid they forget to charge me for something they used to fix my shoulder. Hospitals were a joke, which is why I couldn't wait to quit working in the litigation department for the hospital chain that I was working for when I got my new job in Boston. I hated having to send past due accounts to be sued on knowing that the person was struggling to pay or worst, being terminally ill.

"I have to admit, when you walked in with those two, I assumed that they had been kicking the crap out of each other again and that you were the reason for it. But when I saw that neither of them were beaten, bloodied, or bruised, I thought they were bringing a stray in."

The look on my face must've been enough for her to tell that I was in no mood for anything and she quickly corrected herself saying that what she really meant was that they liked to help strangers when it looked like they needed a hand.

"Just give me the local and please leave me to wallow in my misery. I am not some damsel in distress. I'm just someone who was stabbed and needed help getting to the hospital because I didn't know where it was. No offense, I just want to get this done and over with so I can go home."

The nurse nodded in understanding and numbed me up pretty good. I never felt a thing when the doctor returned to finish his work. Once I signed my release papers and took my prescription for the painkillers and the work order for physical therapy, I met up with Connor and Murphy in the waiting room looking like a train had just run me over.

"She's all good to go boys, just make sure she keeps that arm in the sling for the next couple of weeks and no heavy lifting; nothing over 10 pounds. It's good to see both of you with fresh faces as opposed to the bleeding, bruised messes I'm used to dealing with just about every Saturday night."

Connor chuckled a bit at the doctor's attempt at humor; he slapped his brother on the back with enough force to knock him off balance and slightly pitched him forward. "Well, ya know Michael no week is complete for us till we make a trip here to see you and our favorite Nurse Sandra."

The walk home was just as quiet as it was on the way to the hospital. I had locked myself away inside my head to mull over the day's events trying to figure out a way to prevent myself from falling into the same pit fall again. I had managed to walk so far ahead of the boys that Murphy was practically running to catch onto my right arm, jostling me out of my thoughts.

"Didn't ya hear anything we were just saying to ya?" he was panting a little bit and that was when the smell of cigarette smoke hit my nose as it danced along the night breeze. I blinked a little bit, not sure if it was out annoyance or shear tiredness. "Connor and I were going to stop by the bar for a few pints; d'ya want to join us?"

The last good nerve I had just snapped, and so did I. "The _only_ reason I agreed to go with you two to the hospital was because you promised to take me straight back home afterwards. You _will both_ take me home, as you agreed upon, then you can drink yourselves into oblivion and wind up staying with Michael and Sandra at the hospital."

I was standing firm on my choice of going straight home. The anesthesia hasn't even begun to wear off and the last thing I needed to be doing was to start drinking while I was enjoying the numbing sensation in my shoulder. They acquiesced and Connor caught up with us pretty quick. We made it to the building about 10 minutes later and after seeing me safely to my front door, Connor tried asking again if I'd want a drink with them. Again I refused and un-locked my front door quickly scurrying inside and locking up for the night.

I was relieved to see both my boys fast asleep on the couch. I flipped the light on over the stove in the kitchen and made my way to the bedroom. Today had been too adventurous for my tastes and I crashed as soon as my head hit the pillows.

* * *

"D'ya really t'ink she can take care of herself? Those cats of hers aren't going to jump in and attack a stranger if they see her getting hurt and a gun only carries so many rounds."

"She seems to know how to take care of herself but I would feel more comfortable if one of us at least walked her to the T in da mornings when she was leaving fer work."

"Murph, ya heard what she told Sandra at the hospital, she's not a damsel in distress. If she wants to be left alone, we have to respect that. If what she told ya was true about her being from St. Louis, I'm sure she can handle herself. We'll just have to be discreet about da way we do t'ings."

Connor and Murphy sat at the bar of their favorite watering hole nursing a couple of pints of Guinness wondering about the dilemma their nameless acquaintance had gotten herself into. Tonight had been the first time that either of them had seen her (that they remembered) and her appearance when she shoved past them in the elevator had taken them aback. Their original plan for the night was to wash the smell of raw meat from their bodies and head down to McGinty's to spend most of their paychecks swimming in alcohol. Those plans had suddenly changed when they saw her rush out of the elevator when it stopped on the third floor and Murphy watched her drop her keys outside her door.

They nodded in silent understanding; Murphy getting off on the third floor and cautiously making his way to her door while Connor took the elevator up to the fifth floor where they resided. In the 20 or so minutes that Murphy was a few floors down, Connor furrowed his brow in steady concentration trying to figure out what had happened to her that would cause her to bleed out like that and more importantly what scared her so bad to have her practically run out of the elevator the way that she did.

Murphy made his way up to the space he shared with his brother and, in an annotated version, relayed that she had been attacked in an alley. He also mentioned that they would both take her to the hospital and back home. Connor groaned his frustrations at his brother's chivalrous act but was not looking forward to performing the task. He wanted nothing more than to get drunk and spend the weekend watching a marathon of Clint Eastwood and John Wayne movies.

It was about 2:00 in the morning when the effects of 7 Guinness' and several shots of various hard liquors began to take its toll on Connor and Murphy that they finally tumbled off their barstools, landing in a mess of tangled limbs and teary-eyed laughs on the floor of McGinty's. The poor old barkeep had the hardest time getting them off the floor and an even tougher time getting them to leave so he could close down for the night. They sang (or rather howled) into the night the _Seven Drunken Nights_ as they staggered down the streets, rousing several people from their peaceful slumbers.

"As I went home on Sunday night as drunk as drunk could be I saw a t'ing in her t'ing where my old t'ing should be well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me who owns dat t'ing in your t'ing where my old t'ing should be." Connor started, stopping briefly at a wall to take a piss.

"Ah, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool, still you cannot see that's a lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more but hair on a tin whistle sure I never saw before." Murphy finished as he continued walking up to the front steps of their building, losing his footing slightly as he pulled the door open.

Most of the tenants who resided near the elevator groaned and grumbled about those "damn MacManus brothers." She heard every word of their drunken singing and smiled to herself, shaking her head before drifting back to sleep with her cats curled up next to her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

It was about 7:00 the following morning when I was rudely awakened by an un-Godly awful smell. I rolled over in my bed, turning away from the rising sun and faced the cat that was closest to my head, his eyes were shut and a smile was planted on his face. "You farted," I groaned out before throwing my face back into my pillow. Not even a minute or so later, his brother hit me with another wave of silent but deadly gas. Now I was irritated; throwing the blankets back and crawling out of bed, the pain in my shoulder jolted me awake quicker than a steaming cup of coffee. I shuffled over to the dresser and shut the fan off, then took one of my white pills from its container. I have no intentions on having kids, but it sure as hell helps making that time of the month more tolerable.

There was no way in hell any place would be opened this early in the morning for me to fill my pain meds, so I opted for a couple of ibuprofen to tide me over until I could get down to the drug store. I glanced over at the alarm clock and figured there was no point in trying to get a few more hours of sleep; I could always take a cat nap later that afternoon anyway. Grabbing my cell phone off the dresser, I saw that my friend from back home had texted me back while I had been sitting in the hospital's waiting room the night before and that I had also received a message from a co-worker. His name was Charles, but he'd given me the green light to call him Charlie. He hated people calling him Charlie, especially his parents and close friends but allowed me to get away with it; I guess I was his favorite. He was just about the only person I had met since being in Boston that I came close to calling a friend.

His text mentioned that he'd be over at my place around 9:00 this morning for breakfast and that they wanted that casserole that I had brought in for lunch one day a few weeks prior. I searched my brain momentarily for who he meant by 'they' and came to the conclusion that he was either bringing his boyfriend over or someone from his extensive group of friends for me to meet. I loved Charlie, I really did, but I swear he tries too hard sometimes to get me to go out with people. I'm not opposed to these random hook-ups or blind-dates; whatever you want to call them (I've had 5 in the past 8 weeks). I just want to focus more on what I have in front of me.

I threw my phone on the couch and made my way into the kitchen, pulling the roll of pork sausage out of the fridge that I had placed in there a few days before to let it thaw out. Once I had gotten the sausage in the pan, I grabbed everything else I needed for the casserole including the leftover bacon gravy out of the freezer. About 15 minutes later, the casserole was in the oven baking away for the next hour, which left me enough time to gather up all of the laundry that had accumulated over the past week as well as plenty of cleaning up to do. I cannot let anyone into my home with it looking like a mess, even though it was relatively clean to begin with.

When I was satisfied that everything was as clean as it was going to get, I gathered up the laundry basket, detergent, and fabric softener and awkwardly made my way over to the front door with my keys secured to one of my bra straps. I know it was somewhat Hoosier but I came from a place where it was perfectly acceptable in lieu of a belt loop. I had opted to not wear my sling as it was only getting in the way. I reached the elevator pressing the down button and waited as patiently as I could for it to make its arrival. The sound of a familiar pair of accents hit my ears and I groaned inwardly knowing that if they saw me not only without my sling on but carrying a basket with at least 3 loads of laundry they may as well tear me a new asshole.

I was hopeful that maybe if they saw me with my hair down, they may not recognize me but I couldn't have been more wrong. Usually I never go anywhere unless my hair is pulled back in at least a ponytail. I smiled more to myself at the memory of my favorite uncle constantly teasing me about my ponytails when I was growing up. He would separate the hair and exclaim "look, it's an asshole!" I would laugh every time; since he has passed away 10 years ago my smile faded pretty quickly. I shook my head slightly to pull myself from my thoughts and to keep from crying when I was standing face to face with Connor and Murphy.

"I t'ought the doc told you no heavy lifting last night?" Connor deadpanned, looking annoyed that I was a few hours removed from the hospital and already breaking the doctor's orders.

"I know what the doctor said, but he also said not be lifting anything more than 10 pounds. And before either of you start on 'where's your sling' let me just say that it was doing nothing but getting in the way while I was doing my morning cleaning. Look, I've got stuff I have to get done before I have company coming over and I just want to get downstairs and get the laundry going."

I picked up the laundry basket from the floor, grimacing a little bit when my shoulder started spasming and pressed the button for the basement level. It was times like this that I really missed having my own home with a washer and dryer in the basement. I also missed knowing who my neighbors were and sitting on my deck with the fire-pit going on a warm summer night with the radio on and cold beers in the fridge. Maybe I will have that again one day, but nowhere in the foreseeable future.

As we reached the ground level, I saw Charlie walk into the building with his boyfriend. 'Thank God it wasn't another one of his friends for a breakfast date,' I silently told myself releasing the tension from my arms I didn't realize I was holding until his voice greeted me.

"You're early this morning Charlie. Why don't you and Ryan head upstairs and I'll meet you there? I just need to throw this stuff in the washer and then I'll be back. Breakfast is in the oven but it won't be ready for another half hour or so."

He nodded and the pair headed for the stairwell. How they managed to go up six flights of stairs and not get light-headed was beyond me. I could barely make it up three flights at the last apartment I had back home without getting a little sick. I watched as Murphy threw the gate of the elevator open and stepped out, followed by his brother. Before he had a chance to open his mouth to speak, I grabbed onto the strap and brought the door back down.

"I t'ink I'll call you Red since it seems like I won't be getting your real name anytime soon."

"Like I said last night, my name is whatever you want it to be. If you want to call me Red, be my guest." With that, the elevator started moving again down to the basement level. No one had called me Red since I moved to Boston and before that the only ones who would were my sister and a few of my closest friends. It wasn't just because my hair was red it also had everything to do with my temper. When I was angry enough, I saw the metaphorical blood running before my eyes and tore a path of destruction like a tornado hitting the trailer park.

With all three loads of laundry stuffed into the complex's small laundromat washers, I grabbed the basket and dropped the detergent and the fabric softener at the bottom with a muffled thump. I had reached the third floor with no problems or run-ins with the others who call this place home. Charlie and Ryan were standing outside my door talking about the pair of brothers that were just walking out of the elevator when they got there.

"If I wasn't with you, I would take my chances on that one with the darker hair. He doesn't look like much physically, but I'm sure what he lacks in physicality he makes up for in stamina."

"Tell me how you really feel, Ryan. You were practically eye fucking him once his back was turned to us. Tell you what he would be your free pass if we manage to hit that milestone in our lives just as long as I get a free pass on the other one. He could do anything he wants to me and I'd never complain especially with arms and a chest like that."

"Ryan, the one you were staring at was Murphy; the other was his brother, Connor. Looks alone, I cannot blame either of you for asking for a free pass on those two." I unlocked the door to my apartment and kicked my shoes off. "Take your shoes off this time before you step even a centimeter further inside. And before you start, I know that look on your face Charlie and the answer is no. Every guy you have hooked me up with in the past 8 weeks has ended in disaster. They either want what they can't have or they can't handle a brutally honest woman."

We stepped inside and smell of the breakfast casserole hit us all in the faces, leaving my mouth watering for the tasty meal that was about to hit my stomach in less than 30 minutes. While we waited for the casserole to finish up in the oven, we reverted back to childhood and started watching a few Saturday morning cartoons. Sadly, the ones they play on t.v. just weren't the same, but when you have season 1 of Tiny Toons on DVD it kind of makes things a little better. I originally bought it for my nephews to watch when I would babysit them and kept it with me when I moved.

It only took one episode for breakfast to be done and the bacon gravy to get nice and hot. I wasn't expecting anyone else over so when there was a fist banging away on my door, I nearly dropped my bowl on the ground, letting out a small screech. I had an idea of who it was, but I was hoping I was wrong. I hate people dropping by unexpectedly, but I also hate going into defense mode when instead of knocking, I get someone pounding away at my door like it was a brace used for rough sex. Since my gun was hidden in the bedroom, I grabbed a knife from the block in the kitchen and made a beeline towards the door with Charlie hot on heels trying to make a grab for the butt of the handle poking out of my fist.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: I promise the good stuff is a coming, just hang in there a little bit longer (starts around the end of the next chapter). I am getting moved into my house a lot quicker than I thought I would be which has enabled me to get this updated on a weekly basis, so this week is a bonus week with a second posting. As always reviews & comments welcome. Feel free to PM me with suggestions as well._

 **Chapter 5**

I flung the door wide open with the knife raised (I had inadvertently grabbed a steak knife rather than the filet knife) when a flash of light brought my attention to the badge held in front of my face. I quickly dropped the knife and apologized to the trio of detectives that stood in my doorway, hopeful that they at least understood my actions without having to fully explain what it was I was thinking. I let them enter, but not before I told them to take their shoes off. It's a "house rule" that everyone follows regardless of who they are.

They each took turns asking a series of never-ending questions when one of them finally asked that I get the gun I used in what they were currently calling a crime. I understood where they were coming from and relinquished my weapon with little arguing on my part. Not only did their forensics have to match my bullets from the gun but they also had to document my injuries in relation to the story that an unknown witness had come forth with. I also found out too that my attacker was indeed hopped up on meth and currently sitting in a jail cell. My bullet to his shoulder went through clean and the other three shots I squeezed off hit him in both legs and one coming dangerously close to "something I don't want to lose." as one of the detectives put it rather eloquently. I think he said his name was Greenly but I couldn't be sure.

Charlie and Ryan were doing their best to stifle their laughter when they found out where one of the bullets hit and I couldn't help but throw myself against the wall, I was laughing so hard; I think most of that laughter came out as sleep deprivation, it had been a long time since I went to bed with something other than a sprained ankle or a cracked rib and was unable to sleep. I wasn't aiming to hit there, but just the way that Greenly had expressed himself I just couldn't help it. The other two, Dolly and Duffy, promised to call me when their investigation was finished so I could pick my gun up from the station.

When the trio picked up their shoes and left, I closed the door and started making my way down the hall. I couldn't even get around the corner before there was another knock on my door. At this point I was practically starving, so I had asked Charlie to answer the door while I went into the kitchen and grabbed my breakfast off the counter. Thankfully my cats have not yet learned how jump up there from the floor.

On my return trip from the kitchen, Connor and Murphy stood in the hall receiving another dressing down from Charlie and Ryan. I watched as they shifted on their feet at the uncomfortable gazes they were getting. "If you two are going to be in here, take your shoes off. If you're hungry, breakfast is in the kitchen. I normally don't offer strangers into my home or anything of the sort but I guess you can consider this to be my thank you for taking me to the hospital last night and bringing me back home."

I explained where the bowls and silverware were and watched as they, more or less, pigged out. They acted like they hadn't eaten a decent meal in days and nearly cleaned the casserole dish out before I had taken my first bite. I guess living the bachelor life means you don't eat a lot hearty, home-cooked food. Ryan, Charlie, and I resumed watching Tiny Toons laughing where appropriate while Connor and Murphy stood in the kitchen talking in hushed tones. It was Irish they were speaking and I was able to pick out a few words. I had taken a couple of semesters of the language when I was an undergrad back home and was even invited to participate in the Fulbright program to study abroad and live with an Irish family. I turned it down when some family troubles arose on the home front. I wasn't about to tell anyone that I knew they were talking about us; most of it being about Charlie and Ryan.

"Tell me Red, where did ya meet these two? Ya don't seem like someone who would take a liking to anybody after just 4 months in a new city." If this was Connor's attempt at small talk, he would have to try harder than that. Thankfully Charlie was ready to save the day. He reminded me a lot of my sister; he could talk your ear off all day and still have the energy to go bar-hopping and make a fool out of himself while doing karaoke to any song that started playing.

Charlie glanced over at me and smirked at the use of my new name. The only reason he knew what it really was is because he was my boss. "Red here came to interview for a lab tech position at the museum we both work at. I'm her supervisor so I got to sit in on the interview while the museum's director started putting her through the paces. We probably had at least 20 applicants for one spot and despite her not having much in the way of work experience she made up for it in perseverance and determination. She's also got the sharpest eye for detail that I've ever seen."

Charlie, being Charlie, talked their ears off at least a good 20 minutes going on about what exactly my job was at the museum, the excavations that are done during the summer, and anything under the sun that he could think of before Connor announced that they needed to be going. Again, trying to be nice, I walked them to the door and was just about to close it when a foot appeared in the space between the door and the frame. Murphy popped his head in through the door looking like he wanted to ask me something but suddenly changed his mind.

"Thanks for breakfast, haven't had anything that good to eat since we left home."

His head and foot disappeared from the door after that and I was allowed to fully shut the door. I turned around to face Ryan and Charlie who both wore matching grins plastered on their faces.

"I said no. Wipe those goofy grins off your faces and help me get this kitchen cleaned up. The quicker this gets done, the quicker we can go out and have fun. I know you both are looking forward to dragging me through hell with this shopping trip today for yet another blind date tonight. I don't understand why I let you two talk me into this shit. I hate getting all dressed up and looking like a girl. Since I have moved here, I don't think I've ever worn make-up this much let alone owned the crap. Just this once, can you let me go out looking like myself and feeling comfortable in my own clothes?"

I usually don't whine this much, but I hate looking like someone I'm not. Ever since my mom tried to force me to look more feminine when I started middle school I rebelled against the whole idea. If I wanted to go out with someone, I wanted him to see me for who I really am; not some painted up fake. My appearance left me as being an outcast for most of life and I was fine with that. I would rather be passed up for a gold-digging Barbie doll then look and act like someone I'm not. Charlie understood where I was coming from and would do his best during these trips to make sure I was comfortable enough in what I was wearing before attempting to move forward with anything.

"It's because of that resting bitch face you're always wearing that you scared off another one. You need to lighten up and smile just a little bit. And that ring you always wear on your left hand isn't doing you any favors either." Ryan was constantly on my ass about resting bitch face but anytime he started talking about the ring on my left hand he became vehement with a passion I don't think even Charlie had ever seen before.

"Ryan, if you knew me as well as you like to think you do, you would know that resting bitch face and a meaningless Celtic knot on a ring are just defense mechanisms. Both can be replaced with something meaningful, it just takes a man strong enough with a big enough sledgehammer to tear down the walls that I've built up over the years. These guys you're having me go out with aren't even trying to take a whack at them with a hammer and chisel. What makes you think that someone like those two would have a snowball's chance in hell in making a dent in a wall as thick as the Hoover Dam?"

Today was going to be another long day. Once the kitchen was cleaned up, I grabbed a washcloth and the rubbing alcohol from the linen closet and headed to the bathroom. If I was going anywhere today, I was going to make sure my face was at least cleaned and my teeth were brushed. Another memory from back home flashed through my mind and I couldn't stop myself from laughing. Hanging out with Charlie and Ryan reminded me of the first time I had gone to a co-worker's home for dinner. It was a pot-luck Mexican night filled with margaritas, tequila, board games, and we had ended up watching _Silence of the Lambs_. It's supposed to be a scary movie, but when you've been drinking and Buffalo Bill is going around saying "it puts the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again," you can't help but laugh to the point of tears. How I made it home and up those 3 flights of stairs that night I will never know.

The shopping trip was a waste of time and money; I managed to talk my favorite couple into going to the thrift stores, insisting that there is always a treasure to be found. Charlie had managed to find a decent black dress which I begrudgingly purchased. I hate spending money on clothes, especially ones that will just be worn once or twice and left in the closet to collect dust for the next five years. I had to beg Charlie and Ryan to double up with me on this "date" tonight. If this ended up failing like all the other ones did, I wanted them to be able to see for themselves that it wasn't just my defenses at work.

Despite everything that I put Charlie and Ryan through, they packed my emergency bag for me. If a date starts going south and I know it's going to end in flames, I'll excuse myself to the bathroom for a quick change and be out the door before he even knows what hit him. I usually pour myself into the first bar I see that is closest to home, which usually ends up being McGinty's. I had only ventured in there a few times but when I did the atmosphere reminded me of some place that welcomed the hard-working people that built this city. I was a bit startled my first time in there when Doc started spewing out mixed up proverbs and the ticks from his Tourette's had him stuttering and shouting "Fuck! Ass!" The regulars had a laugh at his expense, but I figured it was okay and he didn't look offended by it. By the time I stumbled into the elevator at home that night, I had downed nearly an entire bottle of whiskey, 4 pints of Guinness, and 2 Long Island Ice Teas.

I had just locked my door and carefully made my way to the elevator, leaning heavily on Charlie for support as we waited for it to make its stop on the third floor. I have no idea how in the flying fuck I let these two knuckle heads talk me into wearing heels _and_ a dress all in one night. The dress I could handle; I cheated and put a pair of shorts on underneath so I could stop arguing with my subconscious about my thighs rubbing. The heels though were going to be the death of me; I loved what they did for my ass, but they were murder on my feet. Thankfully Charlie packed my sandals in the emergency bag. Just as the elevator started making its appearance, I started hearing the cat calls and wolf whistles. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought that Charlie and/or Ryan had this whole thing planned.

"I hate you two so much right now. As for you two, pick your jaws up off the floor; you act like you never seen a pair of legs before your lives."

Tonight was not going to end well and there was no way I was going to be able to show my face at McGinty's later on. The first night I had been there, Connor and Murphy were bellied-up to the bar and had gotten me pretty shit-faced. They were the reason why I nearly emptied an entire bottle of whiskey on my own. I didn't know their names at the time, but I remembered Murphy sliding onto the stool next to mine and presenting me with a shot glass full of whiskey. He made it clear that I didn't have to do anything in return he just said it looked like I needed it.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Hello all! I apologize that this chapter is shorter than previous ones that have been posted; kind of ran into a bit of brick wall on this one. I promise, after this one sexy times will commence. As always, comments/reviews welcome and if you have any suggestions, feel free to PM me._

 **Chapter 6**

As predicted, the night had turned into a disaster. Charlie's "friend" had gone by the name Jack and declared upon our arrival that dinner and drinks were on him tonight. He looked and dressed like he came from money and loved to throw it about: he had not only picked out one of the more pricey restaurants in the area, but had to remind me just about ten minutes that his father was a stock broker, his mother was a real estate agent who "helped sell to the wealthy," and he was in law school to be a defense attorney. What he wanted in his ideal marriage was nothing short of comical and Ryan had to stomp on my toes to keep me from laughing in Jack's face. Apparently he watched _Bewitched_ one too many times and thought that a woman's place was in the home; someone who had dinner on the table when he got home and a drink in hand when he walked through the door.

I am not that kind of woman. But it got worse from there; after I had ordered my dinner and a glass of water, Jack had proceeded to announce to the entire dining room that he hadn't been laid in months and couldn't understand why he was going through such a dry spell. It took every bit of strength I had not to face-plant myself on the table. I hadn't gotten a decent piece of wood since before I left home, but you don't see me making a big deal out of it in such a public place. I take care of the problem in times that I need it and move on. Half-way through dinner, I had to get my bag and go to the bathroom to change. I couldn't take any more of this tonight.

Before I left, I stopped our server before he made it back to the table we were seated at and quickly shoved $20.00 into his hand and squeezed it shut. He looked confused for a minute before I briefly explained that it was for my part of the meal despite what Jack had said; I then handed him an extra $10.00 for a tip. I had a feeling that even though Jack liked to throw money around like it was nothing he wouldn't even leave a one dollar tip for our server and would find something to complain about.

I knew heading home that I couldn't stop off at McGinty's since Connor and Murphy made it very clear that that was where they were going to be if I wanted better company than what I was about to step into. I declined as I tried my best to hold my tongue. The last thing I needed tonight was to walk into a bar full of drunken Irishmen and be teased about actually looking like a woman as well as garner unwanted attention.

"You wouldn't be the first one to walk in dressed looking like that. We've brought plenty of them home and even shared a few on occasion. Although…" Connor started trailing off, slowly raking his eyes over me before Murphy came in with a swift slap to the back of the head. The two of them nearly started a brawl while cursing each other in Russian. I knew one, maybe two words of Russian but while their argument turned into a full on display of might and brawn, I merely rolled my eyes and kicked my heels off. I took the stairs down to the ground level and waited on Charlie and Ryan.

Not going to lie though, the way Connor looked me over was the confidence booster I needed to make it as far into dinner as I did, but I don't think I could ever get used to receiving looks like that. It always left me feeling more than a little uneasy about myself.

I walked into this little hole in the wall Chinese place that I found while randomly wandering the streets one day shortly after I moved in. It is so hard to find really good Chinese food that tastes like home so when I found this place I figured it would be my go-to when I had a shitty day or night. Right now it was a shitty night, so when I walked in the guy behind the counter looked up at the entrance when the bell rang. He smiled and asked me if I wanted my usual order. I come here at least once every two weeks so everyone here pretty much knows that I don't stray from what I usually get. Have I mentioned lately that I don't go out very often? Is it sad that the Chinese place knows my order by heart?

I sighed inwardly and thought to myself that I needed a good man in my life. As I sat in one of the chairs waiting for my order, I closed my eyes and began to let my mind drift. The first thing that appeared was a set of blue eyes. Before the rest of his face could manifest, I heard my name being called and a paper bag was produced containing a mouth-watering array of deliciousness. I was going to spend the rest of the night at home on the couch playing keep away with the cats and watching another of my favorite movies, _Powder_. It was just about the only movie that I owned that actually makes me cry.

I had gotten into the habit of watching a movie from beginning to end without looking at my phone a long time ago. I hate being interrupted while I'm watching something that I enjoy so when I picked my phone up and saw that I had seven different text messages from Charlie, Ryan, and a couple of unknown numbers I was not surprised. Ryan and Charlie's messages were easy enough to get through. The first unknown number, I assumed was from Jack. He said that he didn't understand why I just up and left in the middle of dinner. Another message from him 10 minutes later said that he was sorry for his comments about wanting a kept woman. His third message said he wanted to go out again some time.

Sorry, but not sorry Jack. I am not the type of woman to be locked away in an ivory tower and be expected to wait on you hand and foot. The sixth and seventh messages were from a pair of numbers that I didn't recognize. I was starting to smell a fox in the hen house and I had a feeling that Charlie and Ryan may have had something to do with it either while they were talking to Connor and Murphy while I waited downstairs earlier this evening or they started talking to random strangers on the street after I left the restaurant. They were getting desperate to see me tear down my walls, but at this point in the game I'm going to have to start rolling in the tanks and start shutting them out if they don't at least give it a rest.

I hated to shut my friends out like that, but in order to find inner peace again, sometimes it was necessary. I ignored the messages and put my phone away for the night. I needed to relax a little bit before I headed off to bed that night in preparation for the end of the weekend on Sunday. What better way to relax than a steaming hot bath? Hopefully this would be just what I needed to get back to looking into those blue eyes I saw earlier when mine were closed in the Chinese place. Maybe a face will start to form around those eyes. Maybe he'll start doing all of those things to me that I had only ever dreamed about because all of the others before him were too chicken shit to do what I wanted them to do. I needed to get in the bath before my imagination started running away quicker than my body could catch up.

Just as I had my hand on the bathroom door ready to shut it, a soft knock sounded on the front door. Decision time…


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: So apparently the month of May was recognized as International Masturbation Month and I'm sure these two have been the stars of many of those self-indulging fantasies we've all had whether you care to admit it or not. Had I known that this chapter (very fitting for such a month) would've gone up a lot sooner. I was also going to wait until tomorrow to post this but I'm going to be super busy packing and hauling more boxes in preparation for the big move next week and just won't have the time to. As always, comments/reviews welcome; PM me with any suggestions you may have. Happy Reading to you all!_

 **Chapter 7**

Decision made.

Jack's words about going through a dry spell echoed through my head. Whoever was at the door was either going to wait until I was finished taking care of my problem or come back during the daylight hours. I needed some alone time; tonight was all about me. I know I may sound selfish right now, but everyone is entitled to being selfish every once in a while.

But just out of curiosity, I crept to the door as quietly as I could trying to avoid the floorboards I knew creaked under any type of pressure. Once I made it to my destination, I peered down through the peephole to see who it was. I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face when I saw who it was. Yeah, he can definitely wait until morning; my selfishness won this round.

Another knock sounded on the door as I retreated back to the bathroom, this time a little bit louder than the previous one. I shut the door to the bathroom and turned the lock. Not even the cats were going to bother me this time around. The knobs on this tub can be fickle and trying to get hot water was always a chore. You had to time it just right so that when you did run it, it was at an oddball hour when everyone around you was either already at work or in bed for the night.

The fact that I ended up with steaming hot water was nothing short of a blessing. Once I was satisfied with the water level, I stripped down and eased myself into the tub. Yes, the water was near scalding hot, but it felt so fucking good against my skin that I all but melted into a blissful puddle. The knocking continued to interrupt my thoughts for what seemed like the next 5-10 minutes. How can anyone relax with that going on? Once the person at my door had finally given up, I let out a deep sigh and sunk into the tub as far as my legs would stretch out. I closed my eyes and reminded myself to keep breathing no matter how wild my imagination went. It was easier said than done.

I threw my arms up on the sides of the tub and tilted my head back. A couple of minutes later the blue eyes that I dreamt up at the Chinese restaurant reappeared. It turned into one of those intense stares that seemed to be reaching into the depths of your soul; I felt my breath hitch as I continued to stare into them. Through the darkness that surrounded those eyes a face began taking shape. It was blurry to start with and it slowly came into focus followed by a pair of lips that I would love, at some point, to be attached anywhere they could find themselves. Short, disheveled hair caught my attention for a fleeting moment, but quickly returned to those blue eyes.

A shirtless torso complete with arms and hands appeared next in my line of vision. His arms stretched out and he had a grip on my neck; thumbs moving slowly over my pulse points in counter-clockwise circles, forcing me to relax even further. His fingertips squeezed around my throat slightly, silently telling me he was in control. I felt my head fall back against the wall of the tub with a thud but I was too lost in myself that I could care less.

I felt myself lifting my arms off the side of the tub, but in my mind's eye I imagined it was his extending my arms above my head, then dragging his fingers down, leaving a burning path down the front of my chest, each hand grabbing a breast and sliding off in order to pinch my nipples between his thumb and forefinger. The pressure that was exerted was slightly painful but nothing short of pleasurable. Those lips that I wanted to taste so badly against mine found their way to the pulse point that his thumbs had only just discovered seconds before. He latched onto it and bit down while his hands were keeping a steady rhythm of squeezing and pinching, on occasion, he would scrape his nails along my sides to keep me on edge; I threw my head back further into the back of the tub letting out a silent scream. I knew he wasn't anywhere near finished yet, and neither was I.

His left hand disappeared from my right breast almost immediately as my breathing became an erratic burst of short gasps and my body trembled under his touch. I wanted to whimper for the loss of contact but nearly forgot when I felt his fingertips ghost down over my ribs and started mapping out the different parts of my body that he wanted to commit to memory for future encounters. He removed his teeth from my neck and began searching for my weak spot, the one that would have my nails leaving marks of their own along his back. He found it after a few failed attempts, paying careful attention to the way my breathing changed as he inched closer. When he did find it, mere centimeters from the underside my breasts on top of those last two or three rib bones, he ran the tip of tongue along the edges, testing the waters to make sure he was in the right place. A muffled moan was his reward and grew quickly when he scraped his teeth along where his tongue had just been. The knot that had been forming in my lower stomach began to tighten up in anticipation, hoping that he would unhinge his jaw and apply his full bite force on the spot. Another heated pool formed between my legs when I felt the stubble on his face soothe the place that his teeth had just marked. The change in textures had my eyes rolling into the back of my head and goosebumps springing up across my heated flesh.

Between the biting, squeezing, pinching, scratching, and the light touches I was on near sensory overload. His hands were everywhere but where I actually needed them to be. He never had to say a word, only keeping his eyes trained on mine silently knowing what I wanted without any direction or guesswork.

His hands disappeared altogether and I felt myself being dragged by my hips to the edge of wherever it was my mind had taken us. My legs were being thrown into the crooks of his arms; I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself for what he was about to do next. His fingertips danced along my thighs while I tried to force myself to concentrate on the sensations of him breathing little puffs of hot air on my clit. I couldn't help the moan that worked its way from my throat and escaped passed my lips. Rather than diving right in like an amateur, he turned his head and began tracing an invisible path with his lips down my inner left thigh to my knee while his left hand was busy teasing the flesh along the outside of my right leg.

I bit my lip and tentatively raised my head slightly to see if I could guess what he would do next when I saw his tongue re-trace the trail his lips left behind back up my leg, his stubble-lined jaw leaving a deliciously red rash in its wake. He repeated the same motions on my right side. He did this a couple of times, always avoiding my clit, allowing me to lose myself even further in his ministrations. I felt him shift a little bit and watched as he ran the flat of his tongue between my lower lips and touch the very edge of my clit with the tip of his tongue. It was enough for me to throw my head back and let a shameless groan escape. A hand pressing down on my pubic bone prevented me from bringing my hips up to seek out the contact that I desperately did not want to lose. I had hoped that he would go in for the kill at that point, but instead he continued to run his tongue up the center of my body until he reached the point of my chin and finally crashed his lips against mine. I could taste myself on his tongue and felt myself get just a little bit wetter than I was previously.

Lost in the kiss, I felt a pair of fingers slide between my legs and his thumb on my clit. I gasped at the sensation; it was just the right amount of pressure to cause me to arch my back in ecstasy. Somehow he managed to read my mind; I wanted this teasing to continue. If I wasn't on the verge of tears and writhing, then I wasn't ready to let go. With a final swipe of his tongue over my lips, he started placing open-mouthed kisses over every inch of flesh he could reach, never letting up on the painfully slow thrust of his fingers or the pressure his thumb exerted. He made his way to my left breast and pulled my nipple into his mouth, snagging it between his teeth; pulling his head back slightly before releasing it from his grip. He did it a few more times before changing his course and moving to my right breast. Rather than repeating his previous movements, he chose to run his tongue in tight circles around my nipple before pulling it into his mouth to suck on it for a moment. The sensation changed suddenly when he clamped his teeth around it, giving it a not so gentle tug before releasing it. He continued his path of open-mouthed kisses down my stomach, stopping just shy of my pubic bone. He crooked his fingers and briefly scratched his nails along the spongy tissue inside before removing them altogether. I hoped and prayed that he wasn't choosing now to be the time to stop, so I waited with baited breath.

I never told him about the vibrator I kept in my bedside table, but he found it with no direction from me. The sounds that erupted in the room caused the knot that had been forming in my lower stomach to tighten even further and the smirk on his face told me everything that I needed to know in that one moment. He ran the head of it along my entrance and returned his mouth to where he had left off. He slowly pushed the vibrator in making sure that I felt every inch that it had to offer. I felt him pull my clit into his mouth and run his tongue over it. Between everything he was doing to me, I was like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. I managed to get the muscles in my arms to move after experiencing a brief period of paralysis. I grabbed onto my left breast, digging my nails in while my right hand reached down to grab his hair, holding him in place. The moment I felt him humming against my clit I arched my back and began shamelessly grinding myself into his face. I was nearly there when I felt the head of the vibrator brush against that elusive bit of spongy tissue.

Tears were nearly streaming down my face as I screamed his name at the top of my lungs when my eyes flew open and my head shot up, the sweat was dripping from my forehead and I had tasted blood on my tongue. My right hand was still busy running tight circles against my overly sensitive clit while I rode out my high; my left hand released the death grip it had on my breast. My legs were shaking uncontrollably at this point and I knew I couldn't trust myself to stand just yet. Never have I ever cum that hard on my own. I sat in the bathtub for a few more minutes trying to return my breathing to a normal rhythm.

Once I was finally able to climb out of the tub without falling over on jelly legs, I wrapped the towel around myself and unlocked the bathroom door. The cats stood there looking confused for a moment before running off to play around in their fort of cardboard boxes. I shook my head smiling; I will never understand the fascination cats have with boxes. I was quick to dry off since the air around me was quite cold for it being October. When I finally climbed into bed that night and switched off the light, my mind began to replay the fantasy I had just created for myself. It was the best I had slept since moving to Boston. I just hope that next time one of these fantasies leads to what I have hiding away in the closet. Bedside table is fun, but the closet is better.

* * *

He knew that her bathroom was just on the other side of the wall to the hallway he stood in. He also knew how paper thin the walls were and couldn't help that he was grinning like a Cheshire cat as the sound of her screaming out his brother's name broke the silence that the hallways used to offer. If it was him that she wanted, then he would have to do everything he could to get through her defenses. It was going to be a challenge but he knew that his brother would eventually succeed. He retreated back to the elevator and made his way up to the fifth floor to make sure his brother hadn't passed out over the threshold of the door like he did last time.

"Where the fuck have you been? Did she answer the door? Better question, was she even home to answer the door? I told ya, ya should've jus' followed them and brought her back with ya."

He chose to ignore his brother's drunken ramblings for the night and dragged him through the front door of their home. He was careful to remove their rosaries and placed them on their respective nails in the wall before turning in for the night. Once he was sure his brother was sound asleep, he took ahold of himself and finished the job he was too embarrassed to start in the halls outside her bathroom. He changed it a little bit so that he heard her scream his name rather than his brother's when he did finish.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: I will be moving this week and will be without internet access until Friday night so this chapter is going up a little early. As always, comments and reviews welcome; feel free to PM with any suggestions you may have._

 **Chapter 8**

Sunday went by ay the drop of a dime and I soon awoke to the sounds of my alarm clock going off bright and early at 6:00 am Monday morning. I was irritated, more with myself, that I was rudely awakened. It was my fault anyway for staying up until 2:00 that morning; homework for 6 classes and papers to write for mid-terms, living the life of a typical college student minus the Ramen Noodles. Normally I took the T to work and school, but with my shoulder out of commission for a while, I figured since there is gas in the car I'd take that and just leave extra early in the hopes to minimize getting stuck in too many traffic jams.

I was dressed and out the door in less than 30 minutes so while I stood waiting for the elevator to arrive, I double checked my backpack to make sure I had all of my books for the day and all of my papers in order. I re-zipped my backpack and adjusted the straps so it wouldn't rub too much on my stiches when I heard Connor & Murphy's voices; since Friday night it seems like I can't escape them. They were like a bad case of VD that you couldn't get rid of no matter what you tried.

"Mornin' Red, need some help getting to the T?" Connor asked, making a grab for one of the shoulder straps.

"Thanks, but I think I'm just going to drive until these stitches come out. I haven't taken the car out in a couple of weeks and it is due for an oil change anyway." I rubbed some more of the sleep from my eyes and walked into the elevator while Connor closed the gate.

There was a palpable tension in the small space and I couldn't exactly determine a reason why it was there. I knew they heard me on Friday night tell the nurse that I wasn't a damsel in distress and I thought I made it clear when they were having breakfast with us on Saturday morning that I did not need any help or an escort getting from point A to point B. When we got out to the street, I was more than relieved when they took off in the opposite direction but I could still feel their eyes on my retreating form as I reached the parking garage.

The drive to work was full of angry road rage drivers who cut me off every chance they got. A couple of them even had the nerve to scream at me from their windows that I was going too slow. I did my best to ignore them, turning up the volume when one of my favorite songs came blasting through the speakers. I can only go as fast as the people in front of me and even then I kept it 5 under the limit just in case these goddamn idiots decided to slam on their brakes for no apparent reason. My favorite was a guy about my age driving a BMW with no working brake lights who suddenly stopped while getting onto the off ramp I used to get to work; I nearly ended up in the ditch trying to avoid hitting him. I've got good insurance, but it's not good enough to pay on a wrecked BMW.

Thankfully I made it to work with 10 minutes to spare and used that time to get my breakfast heated up in the breakroom. It wasn't much, just a couple of tortillas and a container with chorizo and egg. Charlie hates when I eat at my work station so after I clocked-in for the day, I made quick work of my breakfast and grabbed 8 of the artifact bags from the vault that needed to be cleaned. A group of students working on their dive certificates over the summer brought these bags up along with at least 10 others so I had plenty to keep me busy for the next six hours that I was here.

Before I had a chance to get started, Charlie pulled up a chair and began bugging me about what happened Saturday night. He had the wherewithal to understand that it wasn't entirely my fault that things crashed and burned as quickly as they did, but he still felt the need to blame me for making him look like a fool in front of his friend.

"No offense, but if you could pick these blind dates a little better I may not have this issue. I think I need to take a break from all of these hook-ups at least until after the New Year. Before you even start, I've got mid-terms all this week and finals in about a month and a half. I'm also up for my probation hearing with the director around that same time too, so dating is really out of the question right now."

"If that's what you really want, then Ryan and I will back off until after the New Year. If you don't have any plans though on going back home for Christmas, will you at least consider having an end of the semester party so you can celebrate? At least that way you could just get drunk and have a quick hit it and quit it."

Charlie always held out hope for me that even if these blind dates ended in flames that I would at least get something out of it. We had gotten trashed one night shortly after I started working at the museum and I let it slip what I kept in my bedside table and what was in closet. I believe his exact words were that he never would've pegged me for being _that_ type of person. Charlie has since added a few…interesting…pieces to my collection. There were more than a few that I wanted to try out if the person I had in mind was agreeable; there was just something about him that seemed like he would like a little kink in his sex life.

The next six hours went by pretty quickly and once my work station was cleaned up for the end of the day, I made my way over to Charlie's office. I got into the habit of letting him know when I was leaving, but today I also wanted to know who those unknown numbers belonged to. Needless to say, I more than pissed when I found out that he had indeed given my number to Connor and Murphy Saturday night after I took the stairs. Shaking my head, I walked out the door without saying another word and got to school for my 4 pm class: Homicide Investigation. I was surprised that they actually taught a class on it and figured why not. Determining whether a body is part of a crime scene comes with the territory so the more I know the better prepared I can be.

Tonight was a mid-term so I was able to get out of class early tonight and crammed in some last minute studying for my second class: 19th & 20th Century Spanish literature. The entire class was taught in Spanish and proved to be more than a challenge. I didn't realize it when I started the class, but I was more than thankful for all those years of Spanish classes in high school and community college. Grades wouldn't be due out until next week so the only thing I could do was chew at my fingernails until then.

When I finished with the second mid-term of the night, I ended up going to the library to grab a quick snack before they closed the cafeteria for the night and then headed upstairs to the top floor where all the grad students could lock themselves up in private cubes to study. I stayed for at least 4 hours working on more mid-term papers and more last minute studying. I didn't make it back home that night until well after 10:30. After finding an out of order sign taped to the doors of elevator, I trudged up the stairs grumbling under my breath about the inconvenience but the sudden urge of having to relieve my bladder had me running up the last few steps. I nearly ran Murphy over trying to get the door opened.

Since moving to Boston, I have come to the conclusion that I am even more clumsy than I was beforehand and even more prone to just dropping things in general. The second the door was opened, my backpack hit the floor of the hallway as did my keys (again). I barely made it to the bathroom in time to hear the front door close. I know I just said I was clumsy; I twisted my ankle in my mad dash down the hall and tripped over one of the cats. When I came out of the bathroom, Murphy was standing in the living room chewing thoughtfully on his thumb.

"I put yer t'ings on da couch and yer keys on da table. Connor kicked me out fer da night and our buddy Rocco's out of town doing some work fer his boss."

I thanked him for bringing my stuff inside, but was more than a little confused as to why exactly he was telling me all of this un-needed information. There were plenty of cheap motels littering this part of the city that he could've stayed the night at or he could've taken his brother's cue and found someone at the bar to shack up with. Instead, he waited outside my door for the better part of an hour, if not longer; he was about to hate me though in a second. Then again, if he was dropping hints I wasn't picking up on them because my sleep deprived brain was just too focused on the other 4 mid-terms I had this week.

"Look Murphy, if you're asking me if you can crash on my couch for the night I have to say no. I literally just met you 4 nights ago and know absolutely nothing about you. I also have a lot of shit for school that I have to get done in the next 2 or 3 hours before I go to bed. I hate sounding like a bitch at this hour of the night, but you cannot stay here. I'm sorry."

He looked more than hurt at my refusal; his head hung low enough it looked like his chin was touching his chest. He nodded in understanding and quickly turned on his heel, opening the door and slamming it shut, causing me to jump a little bit. It was loud enough that my neighbors next to me started pounding on the wall between our units telling me to keep it down. Shaking my head in frustration, I went into the kitchen to clean up the mess that the cats left me in my absence and got myself a grilled turkey and Swiss sandwich for dinner. I had a shit-ton more studying get done in the next 2-3 hours and a pissed off Irishman was the least of my worries. Even Charlie has never stayed the night on my couch when he and Ryan got into it and I've known him for just shy of 4 months.

My mind immediately jumped back in time to a point in my life to the first time I let a man stay the night with me after what happened to my ex. It was the biggest mistake I had ever made and I vowed that if I ever brought another one home with me that he'd be gone the second he was done.

* * *

"I t'ought ya were going to talk Red into letting ya stay da night at her place tonight?" Connor asked, lifting his head up off of his pillow, trying to keep his voice down so he wouldn't wake his bed buddy.

"She didn't get in until about 5 minutes ago and when I tried she gave me da 'I don't know ya excuse." Murphy explained, making his way to his thread-bare mattress, kicking his boots off for the night. "There has ta be a way ta get t'rough ta her; ta make her see dat we're not like da others."

"Easier said than done, now fucking go ta sleep. If she wakes up and sees ya here I'll never fucking hear the end of it. She won't fucking shut it about wanting ta sleep with both of us at da same time. You're my brother and I love ya, but I don't want your dick invading da same space mine's in."


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Got my internet connection back just a little bit ago and to celebrate here's the latest installment. As always, comments & reviews welcome, PM me with any suggestions you may have._

 **Chapter 9**

October quickly went into November in the blink of an eye. I had passed all my mid-terms with flying colors; they even bumped up my probation hearing with the museum's director. He was so impressed with my work that, with Charlie's help, he offered me the opportunity to come on as full-time staff in between breaks starting the day after I went on Christmas break.

I also started spending a little bit more time hanging around Connor and Murphy. After the stiches came out and I was able to start taking the T again, they would occasionally walk with me and always offered to carry my backpack for me. Of course my stubborn ass wouldn't let them do anything of the sort, but it was nice that the offer was there. I also got my Sig back from the police once their investigation was over. The witness report and my statement had shown that it was indeed self-defense and the meth addict that started it all was (temporarily) behind bars. I had replaced my pepper spray when I lost it in the alley, but I felt naked without my gun; my hand would absently reach down to my hip to make sure it was there only to find an empty space.

Usually I would meet them down at McGinty's on Friday nights after I got paid, but we really didn't do anything together until Thanksgiving. My parents and sister were supposed to fly in for the four-day weekend but had to cancel when the snow that was being predicted came early and shut down the airports. I had just slaved away over the stove for at least 16 hours making an entire meal complete with all the fixings and a beautiful 10 pound bird and now I was stuck with what to do with it all. My first thought was to just throw everything in the freezer, call it a wash, and watch Charlie Brown but then I figured that since the guys didn't really have anyone to spend the holiday with (other than perhaps Doc, Rocco, and a few of the regulars) that maybe they would want free food in exchange for keeping a grumpy bitch company for a few hours.

The fear of rejection was at the forefront of my mind as I nervously made my way up to the fifth floor and stood outside their door. I swallowed the lump that had been forming in my throat since the moment I made my mind up and knocked on the door. After a minute or so, I was ready to call it a failure when the door opened and Connor stood before me in nothing but a towel around his waist. My mind started running wild as I fought with myself internally to say something without looking down.

"Help ya, Red?"

'In more ways than one…' I thought to myself, feeling a knot start to form in my gut. 'You can start by taking that towel off and…'

My thoughts were interrupted when Murphy appeared in the doorway dressed in a similar fashion. Dear God, if you exist please just let them have their way with me then kill me when it's over; please let me die a happy woman.

I shook my head from the perverted thoughts that were taking up residence, hoping to form a cohesive string of words that made sense. "My parents and sister bailed on me for dinner tonight because of the snow. Maybe if you guys aren't busy tonight, you could stop by and help me get rid of everything I just made. If not, I was just going to put it all in the freezer for another time."

"What about Charlie and Ryan? They seem to enjoy your cooking." Murphy asked pulling the door open further and motioning for me come inside. It was definitely a bachelor's pad complete with cardboard pizza boxes and overflowing ashtrays of cigarette butts. The tiles were falling off the shower wall and the toilet looked like something out of a horror movie. I sure as hell hoped their mother never raised them to live in a pig sty when they were growing up.

"They went down to Virginia to visit with Charlie's family and so he could meet his new niece. Besides, you two look like you haven't had a decent meal since you stuffed your faces with that breakfast casserole I made after you took me to the hospital last month. You don't have to come down if you don't want too I just thought I'd offer."

I wasn't prepared for when Connor shut the door and took his towel off, slinging it over his shoulder. I think my eyes nearly popped out of my head and my jaw dropped to the floor at the sight that was before me. I also couldn't help it when I started biting the inside of my lower lip as my lust-filled eyes raked over his form. Number 1 on my list of things to be thankful for this year: Connor MacManus' naked ass and chiseled abs. Number 2 on my list: an above average cock that matched his ego. Now, if only Murphy would just take his towel off, Christmas would've come early for me.

"See something ya like?" Connor asked with a wide grin, glancing back over his shoulder grabbing a pair of boxers and a pair of jeans from what I assumed was his bed.

'Fuck me now; both of you fuck me now!' My mind was screaming at me. The last time I had a two for one deal was just before my first real relationship ended leaving me as guarded as I was when I had met these two.

"Just appreciating the view; Murphy, this is your home too afterall so don't let my being here stop you from doing the same." The words escaped before I had time to think.

They shared a laugh at my expense when my face started turning redder than my hair but agreed to stop by in a few hours once they were done visiting Doc and Rocco. They had even offered to bring back a few beers in lieu of dessert. I told them they didn't have too since I usually kept a few bottles of Guinness in the fridge along with the bottle of Jameson that Doc had given me as a gift when news came out that I had passed all of my mid-terms.

Thanksgiving dinner had been a success and I ended up with nothing leftover to pack up and put away. They stayed long enough to sit through the Charlie Brown special before Connor got up to leave claiming that he had to work the early shift at the plant and needed to catch a few hours of sleep beforehand. He also told Murphy not to "forget about what we talked about a couple of weeks ago about dat one t'ing I told ya about." Color me confused; how he managed to put that sentence together without losing his train of thought was beyond me.

So here I sit. Alone...with Murphy...


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The moment Connor shut the door leaving me alone with Murphy for the first time, I was more than nervous. I couldn't help but wonder if Connor's incoherent ramblings had anything to do with me and if it did, how the fuck I managed to inadvertently get thrown into the mix. Was there something I said or did that offended Murphy that he needed to confront me with? All the negative thoughts running through my head started causing my anxiety levels to rise and I had to excuse myself to the kitchen. I opened the fridge and quickly pulled out the bottle of Jameson that Doc had given me, hoping it would calm my nerves.

"Connor told me he heard ya screaming me name at da top of yer lungs in da bathroom a few weeks ago. Something ya want to tell me?"

I nearly dropped the bottle on the tile floor when his voice came from out of nowhere behind me. Yes, I remember seeing Connor standing outside my door that night, but the thought never occurred to me that he would actually stand outside in the hallway and listen in while I took care of myself. My heart pounded away inside my chest; how does one even begin to formulate a response let alone verbally communicate a feasible answer to such a bold accusation. I could flat out tell him the truth that yes I got myself off while I had imagined that it was him doing all of those things to me. I could also tell him that I wanted him bad enough that I wanted him to use everything in the bedside table and the closet on me all in one night. I could also tell him that I wanted his brother just as badly. But I don't handle confrontation that well.

"How do you know that there isn't another Murphy? Why assume that it was you? Why the fuck was Connor even standing outside in the hallway?" Anger was the defense mechanism I used the most, so naturally it was the one that decided to rear its ugly head tonight after we all seemingly had a good time a few hours before. Why do I always do this to myself!? I wanted to cry internally, but another foot of concrete being poured around my heart wouldn't let me. Instead I grabbed a frying pan that I had just washed and whacked Murphy upside the head with it screaming at him to leave.

"One of these days, you're going to realize that you just passed up the opportunity of the good man you're always griping to Charlie about. And when you do, I'm not going to be around." He quietly picked up his shoes from the hallway and walked out, gently shutting the door behind him leaving me in my misery.

I fed the cats scraps of the turkey, cleaned out their litter boxes, and changed into a pair of jeans. I was not going to spend the rest of my night locked away in this apartment; I only hoped that Doc kept the bar open tonight. I can always spend the night upstairs in the storage room sleeping on a pool table.

Once I saw the 'open' sign lit up on the front of McGinty's I heaved a sigh of relief and pushed the door opened. Tonight I just wanted to forget everything that happened, the good and more importantly the bad. I knew it was completely my fault for the way things turned out, I could own up to that but you can't confront someone about them masturbating to you and not expect a reaction.

I threw a $50 on the bar and told Doc to keep the drinks flowing. He obliged with a look of concern across his face. Doc never asked the questions that he wanted to but he would occasionally try a broken proverb to try and at least put a hint of a smile on my face. It was about 11:30 that night when a blast of cold air flooded the building and I could smell Connor walk into the room. In the month or so that I had started talking to Connor and Murphy I had learned that they were twins and did just about everything together. I also learned how to tell the difference between the two when my back was turned just on smells alone. They both smelled like cigarette smoke but Murphy had a musky smell to him that I couldn't exactly place and Connor smelled like Old Spice.

"Go away." The growl that emanated from my throat sounded nothing like me as I kept my eyes trained on the fresh bottle of Jack that Doc placed in front of me. Rather than pouring any into the glass sitting between my hands, I twisted the cap off and took a long swig, letting it burn on the way down. I was in no mood for this shit-disturber and tried to shut myself down from any and all feelings. But if I knew anything about the Irish, it was that they were a stubborn bunch; curse my mother for being a quarter Irish.

"Did ya really have to hit him with da frying pan? He could've taken a more subtle approach, but I don't t'ink he deserved dat." He sidled up next to me at the bar doing his best to make me look at him.

Add another 6" of poured concrete to my hardened heart.

I picked the bottle of Jack up from the bar, never looking at him and never saying a word, walked up the stairs towards the old speakeasy, and locked myself away for the rest of the night. I made sure that all the locks were in place and the door was blocked before moving to the window that led out to the fire escape pushing one of the pinball machines in front of it. No one was coming in here as long as I could help it.

That first real relationship with him had taught me to never trust. It was a lesson I had forgotten.

* * *

"Da fuck were ya t'inking broaching da subject like dat? Were ya not listening to anything Ryan had been telling us da past month? Ya deserved dat shot to da head ya know."

"I was hoping dat da direct approach would work best; clearly I was wrong. Ryan never really did say anything about how to attack dat one. It was either beat around da bush or face it head on. She's got every reason to be pissed off and angry, but I didn't t'ink she'd actually haul off and attack me. At least she did go after me da way Rosie went after ya her first day at da plant."

"Rosie's problem was dat she couldn't take a joke, even if it was St. Patty's day. Red's problem is dat she doesn't know how to let anyone in after just one serious relationship dat went south real fucking quick. Do like Ryan said and just tip-toe no matter how much it fucking kills ya. I'm going down to da bar to see if I can't talk some sense into her. Ya better figure out a way to fucking make it up to her."

"Fuck dat shit; if ya want to put in da time and effort it takes to bring down da Berlin wall by hand be my guest. Red's a fucking psycho. Dat ex of hers dat Ryan told us about: they deserve each other, just a fucking shame he's dead."


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Hello to all out there on the inter-webs; hope all is well with you. I know it's kind of early to be putting this out there but if anyone is going to be on the Walker Stalker Cruise next year I hope to see you on board. Maybe we could all meet up somewhere and just hang out, let our hair down, enjoy a few drinks, and see if we can talk Norman into calling Troy and_ not _make us wait 4 more years for the 3rd BDS movie. As always, comments and reviews welcome; PM me with any suggestions you may have._

 **Chapter 11**

I had the same nightmares every night. When I was drunk they were tolerable, but when I was sober it was ten times worse. In the beginning I woke up screaming at least 4-5 times a night; the sight of his body at the bottom of a cliff was forever imprinted on my mind, but as the months turned into years, the screams faded into once a night until I got to the point that I would just wake up in tears.

 _I had been driving through Utah on my way to Great Salt Lake Park and afterwards head towards the coast for a dig that summer when I pulled off the highway in search of the gas station that was supposedly the last for the next 50 or 60 miles. I had half a tank in the car, but I'd rather it be full during those times I kicked the AC on. Soon after crossing the state line I ended up with a flat tire that needed to be changed. With my dad being a mechanic he made sure I knew how to at least change a flat, check the oil, and change the battery; everything else was beyond me. A dirty, old red truck pulled over on the road as I putting the spare on; the driver asking if I needed any help. I was too busy with my task to even look up at who was asking, but told him that I was fine. He mentioned something about owning a shop a few miles up the road if I needed anything. I simply waved him off as I started putting the nuts back on. It was almost high noon and I was starting to sweat like a whore in church on Sunday. When I pulled into the gas station, I got a pretty good look around: a bar, a motel, the gas station, and a police station complete with one lonely attendant standing in a pair of coveralls wrapped around his waist and a white wife-beater. That beat-up red truck was parked not too far off and my best guess was that this must've been the shop the roadside stranger mentioned._

 _As I stood at the tank I felt his eyes burning into the back of my skull. My first mistake was looking over my shoulder at him. If looks could kill, I would've been dead before I hit the ground. He had been leaning up against the building with his foot propped up on the wall. When he saw me glance at him, he kicked off and made his approach. My second mistake had been agreeing to spend an hour or so with him in one of the motel rooms. It had been the roughest sex I had ever had and it had also been the best. It was everything that I wanted and craved; it had left me wanting more. You know it's good when can barely remember your own name and can hardly stand to walk straight._

 _When that hour was up we walked back outside; he went back to the shop and I went back to the car to finish filling the tank up. Before I left the car where it was parked, everything looked fine. My things were put away in the trunk and the undercarriage was clean. When I came back, the trunk was popped opened, my clothes were thrown all over the place and something was leaking from underneath the car. I put everything back into the trunk that would fit and just threw everything else into the backseat. Not knowing what was leaking I decided against starting the car up out of fear of seeing either the check engine light on or something else altogether. I walked up to the shop, using my forearm to wipe the sweat dripping off of my forehead before entering. I found him standing underneath what looked like a 1976 Chevy Impala colored red by the surrounding canyons pulling parts out left and right, throwing them in a box labeled as waste while a partially opened box sat near the driver's side front tire._

" _What do you want?" he asked when he realized he wasn't alone anymore_

" _Someone decided to break into my car during play-time; something is leaking out from it and I didn't feel comfortable turning the car on just in case some wires got loose and sparked. Think you could tow it in and take a look at it? It doesn't have to be right this minute, just whenever you got a few minutes to spare."_

" _Smart girl; you can change a tire and recognize when something's not how you left it. We got some guys around here that like to cause trouble for tourists; they rip cars apart just for hell of it after they start getting high. I'll bring it in after I'm finished taking this piece of shit apart and get the new axle put in. Just leave the keys on the counter. Where'd you learn to change a tire? People see you doing that around here they won't know what to think."_

" _My dad's a mechanic back home. He only taught me a few basic things like changing the tires, checking the oil, and changing the battery. Since I only have one spare, if the tire's not too far gone, could you patch it?"_

 _We made small talk for a couple of hours before he announced that he was finished with the piece of shit Impala; glancing up at the clock I did a double-take. It was already 5:00 and the sun had just started to set on the canyons. There were several times during the past four hours when I told him that I should leave and let him get back to work but he insisted that my being there wasn't a problem. He liked talking with someone who at least knew her way around a car and not just a dick. I wasn't sure whether to take it as a compliment or an insult but I kept my mouth shut. He kept the Impala on the lift as he opened one of the bay doors, walked out, climbed into the tow truck, and made the short 30 second trip out to where my car was parked by the pumps. Watching him work the chains around the tires in preparation for the lift bar seemed to fascinate me entirely too much. The way his arms would flex, the sweat that soaked through his shirt… I had to get a hold of myself before I went out there and shredded his clothes off to fuck him on the hot sandy ground._

" _Be lucky you didn't turn that engine over, the whole fucking place would've gone up in flames. See this? This is your brake line and this tank that's dripping is your coolant reserve; this wire here is part of the steering column. Whichever one of these assholes that fucked your car up didn't want you to go anywhere. The tire I can patch but you need a new tank. Normally a part like this can take a week to get here but since you can talk cars and suck a cock, I'll put a rush on it. But I want something in return."_

" _Name your price." I still had about 8 days left before I had to be at my planned destination so I figured a layover wouldn't be too bad._

" _One, I get to fuck that pussy whenever I want; two, do not come back to this shop unless I tell you too; and three, meet me at the bar in an hour. We're going to see how well you can handle your whiskey."_

" _Deal."_

 _I left Utah all together after a grand total of 5 nights at this tiny motel room, spending each one with him. He kept up his end of the bargain and got a new brake line and coolant tank ordered and put in; I kept up my end by letting him fuck me when he wanted too (morning, noon, and night), I didn't show my face at the shop, and I proved to him that I could drink his buddies under the table. However, I had to get to Oregon for a dig otherwise I wasn't getting paid. It was my first real field job and they offered $15.00 an hour plus per diem, room and board, and all travel expenses paid. For 8 weeks' worth of work I was looking to make quite a healthy paycheck along with a solid work reference. I had promised him that, if he wanted me to, on my way back through I could stop by for another 5 nights. When those 8 weeks were up, I did stop by as I had promised and I ended up staying for the better part of 2 years. My parents were more than pissed at such a rash decision on my part, but understood that the choices I made were mine and I'd live with the consequences no matter how good or bad it turned out._

" _You actually came back; most women I've fucked just move on to the next guy in the rotation."_

" _You said it yourself though that all the women around here are whores anyway so I figured when you have fresh meat in stock why not take advantage of it? It's not like you're the only one around here who has an appetite for rough, kinky sex. If you're feeling up to it, what do you say we…" I started leaning into his chest and stretching up onto the tips of my toes to whisper in his ear one of my most secret fantasies. It was one that I thought of pretty often and after what he did to me 8 weeks ago, I figured he'd be the one to make that fantasy a reality. Little did I know that that night would be the first of many in which he would leave the impressions of his teeth on me, forever marking me as his property for the whole town to see._

 _Those two years were full of ups and downs and hands down the_ best _sex ever. He had done anything and everything to me. He marked me all to hell with bites, scratches, and knife tips; had me writhing under him when he brought out the handcuffs, chains, and other means of bondage. He made sure that I was always safe and protected. But everyone knew that the mechanic bit was just a front. He was a pretty scary person when he lashed out and was worse when he was not in his right frame of mind. There was more than one occasion when he had killed someone for looking at me the wrong way. Not to mention the drugs that he made and took. I turned the blind eye and kept my mouth shut; his business was none of mine._

 _And that was the way it stayed for those two years until some uppity Ivy League college bitch pushed him off the side of one of the canyons. His death hit me harder than I thought it would. His father pretty much cleaned out his house when his body hadn't even been cold for 24 hours and I had been left with memories and drawings plastered on the walls._

Since the day he died, I've been haunted by his face. He was the first person that I had been actually serious with and he was gone. By no means was he a good man or even someone I could trust. He had committed murders and had a girl for every day of the week on the side. But he'd always come back to me. I don't think he was capable of love, but he made it clear after the first year that he had felt at least something towards me.

As I sat up in the speakeasy kicking back the now half empty bottle of Jack (his favorite), I began hearing his voice somewhere in the distance. Murphy's comment about passing up an opportunity with a good man had left me unnerved. Yeah, I bitched at both Charlie and Ryan about wanting a good man, but I also told them that I'd be willing by-pass that for a freak in the sheets like I had before. I also remember telling Ryan explicitly that a good man will stand firm in his beliefs no matter how hard life tried to kick the shit of him and that if he really wanted someone as fucked up as I am that he would commit to putting in the work it would take to make me see for myself that I was wrong about him. I was never going to find someone exactly like my ex, but I could try to find someone who allowed me to be as sexually free as he made me feel or someone who made it clear that no harm was going to befall me as long as he was around. I guess in some twisted sort of way, my ex was a good man; he always made sure I was safe and he would stand up for what he thought was right even if it meant going against his father.

Eventually, I fell asleep on the pool table with my arms pulled into the sleeves of my shirt, wrapping them around myself. I felt the tears burning against my eyes, threatening to spill out as the memory of him holding me on nights like this came rushing to the surface. He was never one for affection or cuddling or any of that kind of shit, but something as simple as his arm wrapped around my neck and shoulder was enough to ease me back into sleep. It was about 4:00 in the morning when I woke up to the sound of a loud banging on the door. His face flashed before my eyes again before I realized that I had been screaming in the night again. I ignored the voice on the other side of the door and flopped back down on the pool table and cried myself back to sleep.

As far as I was concerned, Connor and Murphy no longer existed in my world. I had started letting them in and just when they had succeeded in knocking out the first few bits of concrete, they had to fuck it up by saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Besides, the cats, school and work were more important; the more time I invested in those activities, the easier it would be to forget about them.

 _A/N 2: Can you name that movie and/or Norman Reedus character?_


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Today was Thursday and I was on my way home from school having just finished my last final of the semester. I agreed to have a fun little get together tonight once I got home but made Ryan promise that there would be no more than 10 people. I hated crowds, always have. Charlie and Ryan found that out the hard way when they brought me to one of the more popular bars in downtown Boston and I turned into a shaking mess when my anxiety levels started rising. It was bad enough that someone called the cops thinking that I was tweaked out on something. Those two assholes knew that I couldn't handle large crowds and they brought me there anyway; after the cops let me go I high-tailed it out of there and found myself sitting on a stool next to Rocco at McGinty's listening to the guys bitch about their day and kicking back whiskey shots with Murphy; I think Connor was more than impressed that not only could I keep up with his brother and but then I drank him under the table.

Tonight was different though; tonight was not a regular night at McGinty's and I was still furious with the twins. I had also told Charlie and Ryan that under no circumstances were Connor and/or Murphy allowed anywhere near my front door. Since the night that I had met Jack on the double date, I found out that the twins had started talking with Charlie on a near regular basis and had pretty much told him everything that had happened from my first run-in with them in the elevator until recently when I had to start resorting to using the fire escape to leave in the mornings just to avoid getting on the elevator with them. Imagine the horrified look on my face when Charlie casually brought up Connor's auditory voyeuristic experience while we were at work one morning. If Charlie was talking with those two Micks on a regular basis, I knew that anything I said would be the next bit of gossip that was discussed at their next regular meeting. I also knew that everything I had told him about my ex was out in the open; Charlie never could learn to keep his mouth shut. I found out too that Ryan would put in his two cents when he felt it was necessary, filling in the gaps where appropriate.

"C'mon just let them in for five minutes, that's all I'm asking. You've been giving them the cold shoulder since Thanksgiving; don't you think they've suffered through your silence enough? I agree that Connor should not have been listening in during bath time and Murphy could've definitely tried a different approach, but they really want to apologize for what they did."

"For fuck's sake Charlie, I said no. If you ask me again, I'm shutting the party down and kicking every one of your sorry asses out. I thought I would take your advice for once and have this party as a way of letting my hair down a little bit and celebrate the end of the semester. We have a saying back home during Mardi Gras: _laissez les bons temps roule_ _._ I want to have a good time tonight and I do not want those Micks anywhere near my home."

"Alright, I'll drop it for tonight but you cannot avoid them forever. Eventually you're going to have to face them and you had better be ready for it. They already told me how they plan on getting you alone to listen to them. And another thing, stop calling them Micks; it's just fucking rude."

"Charlie, the only way they will ever get me alone is if I catch them with their pants around their ankles and sporting some rather impressive hard-ons. Even then in order for them to tag-team me they had better have a goddamn good plan after their done fucking me through the floor. You can tell them that word for word. And you can also tell them that I'll call them whatever it is that I want to fucking call them. You call me a Beaner and a soulless ginger every chance you get during the day but you don't see me getting my panties in a wad over it. Besides, we live in a desensitized society where we call each other derogatory names as a casual greeting so just fucking get over it."

I had to get out of there before I really did blow my top. I grabbed the beer bottle off the counter that I had been drinking out of and made a beeline to the fire escape. Among the few people that I had over, one or two of the boys from McGinty's showed up, including Doc and Rocco, bearing gifts in honor of both the upcoming holiday as well as the completion of my first semester. Doc only stayed for about 10-15 minutes before he had to leave again saying he only dropped by to congratulate me on a job well done; he had a couple of new hires running the bar and didn't want to leave them alone for too long in a bar full of drunks. Doc made sure I was aware that Connor and Murphy were among the patrons he left at the bar so he could only imagine the damage those two were doing while the newbies were in charge. Rocco on the other hand was standing outside on the fire escape half-way through a cigarette when I came out holding my beer.

"You okay? You don't look like you're having a good time at your own party."

"Charlie's being a pain in the ass again bringing up the names of dumb and dumber. I genuinely was having a good time tonight until their names crossed his mouth." I sighed, leaning my arms over the railing, letting the neck of the bottle teeter between my fingertips

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news but when Doc and I were heading out on our way over here we kind of let it slip that you were having a party here tonight and their names were not on the guest list. I don't know what all happened between the three of you and I'm not going to ask but I do know that those two fucking idiots are sorry. I came over one day last week, must've been around 4:30 or so; Murph had just gotten out of the shower but Connor wasn't even within earshot. Usually if one's in the shower the other is outside smoking or on the couch drinking a beer in front of the t.v. Murph mentioned that he might've been down here standing outside your door. Sure enough I came down here and there he was sitting in the hallway across from your door."

I really didn't want to ask why but it kind of slipped. From what Rocco told me, Connor was out there hoping I would either answer my door so he could apologize or I would bump into him on my way home from work. I figured the day he was talking about must've been just this past Friday since I only went to work from 7:00 in the morning until 3:00 in the afternoon and because I flat out refused to go to school on Fridays. I stared off into the distance, which wasn't very far out since the only view I had was that of the building next to mine. Finishing up the last of my beer, I dropped the empty bottle in the trash can I set outside just for the occasion before heading back inside.

I was thankful that Charlie dropped the subject of the twins for the rest of the night and the party proceeded until the wee hours of the morning when the neighbors had called the police to shut us down. I had requested the Friday following the party off from work so I had the entire day to clean up the mess that I had helped to create. I emerged from the bedroom dressed in some work clothes that were comfortable enough to just wear just around the apartment, which also happened to include a skirt. Why I was in a skirt in the middle of December was beyond me but I figured with all the work I had around this place that the less I had on the better. The logical side of brain rationalized that taking the garbage bags out to the dumpster would cool me off long enough before the deep chill set in. Looking around there were beer bottles littering the floors and food still lying out on the kitchen counter. The bathroom looked like hell with puke piles on the floor around the toilet and someone had tried using my bathtub as a urinal. Today was going to be a long day and I silently vowed that I will never again throw another party if this was going to be the morning after result.

The clock on my phone spelled out 7:03 a.m. so I pulled up my big girls pants (figuratively speaking) and started working on picking up the empty beer bottles and cans that were scattered all over the place. This would prove to be the easiest thing to do all morning since cleaning the bathroom is going to be the most problematic place in the whole apartment. After the empties were picked up, I scrapped my dishes clean of any food that remained and set them in the sink to let them soak in hot water and soap suds; once those got rinsed off, the dishwasher could do the rest of the work for me. The state of the living room fell somewhere in between the kitchen and the bathroom; easy to pick up but still had a few spots on the carpet I had laid out underneath the coffee table that had to be deep-cleaned. Some asshole last night decided to do mixed drinks and spilled his glass of Jack and Coke on the hardwood floors. I did my best to get it cleaned up after the fact that it happened but this morning I had to get the Windex and half a roll of paper towels to finish cleaning it up to preserve what was left of the finish and to get the stickiness of the soda up. Since I love being barefoot, I would hate to have to stepped in dried up sticky mess.

It was going on 8:00 in the morning by the time I had started working on the bathroom. The first task on my list was to get the puke around the toilet cleaned up. I really should've made whoever created this mess clean it up but not knowing who did it meant that I was going to be the one doing it. I was grateful that I had a strong gag reflex but it was still a nauseating task nonetheless. The garbage bag was sitting on the floor next to me so I didn't have to try and carry the paper towels throughout the apartment to the kitchen. By the time all of the puke was cleaned up I had gone through two rolls of paper towels and had accumulated 6 bags of garbage sitting by the front door. The clock on my phone was now reading 9:30 and I knew that Connor and Murphy would already be at work so it was safe to take the elevator down so I could get rid of these garbage bags.

By the time I got back upstairs I was already exhausted and ready to go back to bed but I really wanted to get that bathroom finished. I must've poured enough Comet, Pine-Sol, and bleach down that toilet to keep it clean for the next six months and the same amount in the bathtub to sanitize it enough to sit in again. When I got back up here, I checked the clock on my phone again to see that only 10 minutes had passed. Checking the time was one of my worst habits but I liked to make sure I wasn't going to be running late for something even though I had nothing on the agenda for today.

I should've know that Charlie had told Connor and Murphy that I was going to be home all day so when a knock sounded on the door around 11:00 that morning I shouted from the enclosure of the bathroom for whoever it was to come in without thinking. Murphy's musk hit my nose despite the strong smells of the cleaners I was using before I had a chance to kick his ass right back out the door. Just when I had gotten up off my knees and pulled the gloves off that I was wearing in order to turn around to start yelling at him, I found him standing in front of my bathroom door wearing nothing but a smile on his face and a bathrobe pooled on the floor.

"I believe Charlie's exact words were dat if I wanted to get ya alone me pants had to be 'round my ankles sporting a rather impressive hard-on. I can meet ya half way wit dat request but may need a little help fulfilling da second half." He wore a rather cheeky grin, hoping that I'd take the bait.

I shook my head and pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure that this headache was causing me. I literally just finished washing the last of the urine and the bleach out of the tub and I needed to collect my thoughts before I said anything that I may end up regretting. Let's face it though, I would not be in this situation had he just said nothing at all about what I was doing in here just a hair under two months ago.

Picking my head up out of my hands I tried to keep my eyes on his face, what _could_ I say when Murphy was standing there in all his glory.

'Actions speak louder than words dumbass. Grab a fistful, tug on his hair, throw him back against the wall…don't just stand there, do something!'

'But I'm tired! Can't I just boot his ass out and go back to bed?'

'You haven't gotten laid in at least 8 months, you're overdue. Fuck the shit out of him already! Make him scream _your_ name! If you don't do something about this then I will.'

'You are not going to do anything except go back to being a docile voice inside my head. You may be in charge of everything that has to do with my sex drive but I refuse to cave even if he is…wearing…nothing…and…he…'

'You can thank me later.'

I hate arguing with myself…


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"For the love God, harder! I'm not going to break, so fuck me like you mean it!"

"I'm going as hard as I can, but you're so damn insatiable," he grunted out as his hips slammed into mine.

"And don't you forget it." I growled out, digging my nails deeper into his shoulder blades and catching his earlobe between my teeth.

He nearly had me folded in half and I still wanted more. I had been debating whether or not to stop so I could grab a few things out of the closet that I knew would send me over the edge but I didn't want to scare him off too quickly so I had to opt for a less…creative…means of reaching my end.

"Bite me; if you're going as hard as you can then just bite me. I don't care where and I don't care who sees it, just do it." I was nearly there and just needed that little bit extra before I started seeing stars.

Thankfully, he was good at doing what he was told to do. I felt his parted lips brush down the side of neck and his teeth gently begin to sink into the junction between where my neck and shoulder met. I began to feel my walls fluttering around him and knew that I close. I was practically begging him to bite me harder and felt him tense up at my request. He had some unasked questions but obliged.

I had ended up screaming his name louder than I had then when I was in the bathroom getting myself off two months prior. My brows furrowed as I felt the tears running down the sides of my face while my body shook in the aftermath of one of the most powerful orgasms that I had ever had. It was one of those 'don't fucking touch me' types of powerful orgasms that left you a shaking mess.

He soon followed and pulled out almost too quickly for my liking; I knew that he was uncomfortable with my demands, but I didn't think that he would get up and put his robe back on in such haste. I laid back on the couch and stared at the ceiling for a little bit before I propped myself up on elbows to get a good look around at the damage, the feeling of everything dripping onto the cushion and down my thighs as I shifted myself into an upright position.

It had all started when I shoved him against the wall and rolled my hips against his relishing in the heat that his body gave off against the December cold. Before he even had the chance to lay a finger on me, I had already sunk to my knees and had taken him in my mouth. When he did try to lace his fingers through my hair, I had grabbed a hold of his balls and gave them a slight tug; growling around his cock. All he could do was tilt his head back against the wall and groan.

He finally had enough when his cock hit the back of my throat and I began to hum around him, scraping my teeth lightly against him when he fully dragged himself from my mouth. His pupils were nearly blackened with lust when he pushed me onto my back, making a grab for my panties and ripping them to shreds. I divested myself of the shirt and matching bra that I wore but before I had a chance to get the skirt off, he had already pushed it up and sunk in. There was no pausing, no period of adjustment; there was only that primal need to move.

I was pretty impressed with his length, but his girth was the awakening that I needed. It wasn't enough that he bottomed out inside me after a few deep strokes, but to _feel_ everything at one time was damn near earth shattering to say the least. I had only closed my eyes for a brief moment in an attempt to memorize this feeling when he started dragging me along the fibers of the carpet that was laid out in the hallway. To feel that delicious burning against my skin had me writhing under him.

At one point I had managed to gain the upper hand and flipped us over. I had to slow this momentum down just a little bit before either of us lost all control too early. He grabbed onto my hips, thrusting himself upwards, pushing and pulling me in an attempt to get me to speed up my actions. I took my hair out of the rubber band that had it tied back and leaned over him, watching as it created a curtain, blocking our faces from the outside world. A soft moan emanated from his chest when I began to lightly rake my nails over his skin. It felt so wonderful against mine that I couldn't help the moan of appreciation that came bubbling up to the surface. Under hooded eyelids, I watched as his eyes fluttered shut and I took the opportunity to taste those lips that I had only dreamt of kissing.

Naturally he tasted like cigarette smoke, but there was an underlying sweetness that I couldn't quite place. I felt him wrap a leg around one of mine and flip us back over afterwards he resumed the punishing pace that he had originally set. It was hard enough that he eventually pushed me from the hallway all the way to the coffee table that sat in the middle of the living room. As my back was endlessly being scratched against the fibers of the area rug, my body became numb to the sensation of being pushed along the floor and stopped responding the way that it had. That was when I felt him lifting me onto his lap, pick me up, and crudely dropped me onto the coffee table. It was an old marble table that I had inherited from my great-grandmother; it was probably around 50 or 60 years old by now but the cold surface on a December morning was a shock on my nerve endings.

I didn't mean for it happen, but the shock of the cold marble also caused me to jump more than a little bit while Murphy was mid-thrust so on his way back in, I pulled him down with me and we broke my coffee table in half. Admittedly, I was too caught up in the moment to care but the fragmented and broken pieces of the table running along my back made me tighten my walls against his cock and I had a mini orgasm right there. It was more of an auto response to the pain that I was accustomed to feeling so long ago but regardless those broken pieces on my bare skin felt astounding. It also brought back some of the sensation in my body that I had lost a little bit ago.

He was nice enough to pick me up from the pile of broken pieces once he caught sight of the blood coloring the pieces red and deposited me over one of the arms of the couch. That was when he had me folded in half and I was howling for him to give me the release that I was after. I could always clean the blood up later after he left and I had a moment to catch my breath.

"Go ahead and ask I can see it in your face so just get it off your chest now."

"Is dat what he used to do to ya? Did he drive ya t'rough pieces of furniture, draw blood, and drag ya over abrasive surfaces until yer skin was raw?" he asked keeping his eyes cast downward while pulling a pack of cigarettes and a light from the pocket of the threadbare robe.

I sighed, I knew these questions were coming and I also knew I was about to confirm all of the stories that Charlie had ever told them.

"He did all of that and more. He had me screaming his name late into the night and into the early morning hours until I was hoarse; he would leave me lying underneath him in a pool of sweat and sex juices while he carved his name into the back of my neck with a buck knife. It wasn't that big, but it was big enough that it was easily seen when my hair was pulled back and off my neck. Everyone knew about us, but there were times that newcomers had to be put in their place and the locals had to be reminded. But, I have no regrets over it. He was a caged animal and I was the means through which he vented and sought release. My ex is dead and I can't bring him back; I don't want you thinking that I was trying to vicariously re-live the past through you. To be honest, what we did was just as good, maybe even a little bit better. It was definitely different, but in a good way. My ex had a habit of choking me when he would come and sometimes it was hard enough that I would pass out from a lack of oxygen; but your apprehension when I asked you bite me lets me know now that it's okay to have boundaries. Look, I don't know about you but this morning was the first time I had any type of sexual encounter in nearly a year so if I did anything that left you unnerved and probably scarred for life, I'm sorry. I needed that roughness and all of those marks to remind me that I was still here; that I needed to start living in the present rather than let the past serve as a constant reminder of what used to be."

He nodded his head for a moment, seemingly in deep thought. I hope I didn't scare him off or that he'd run back to his brother and tell him that he may need therapy for his traumatizing ordeal.

"I'm not sure what ta say. I'm glad dat ya had dis grand epiphany while we just did all of _dat_ , but don't ya find it to be hypocritical dat your ex did all of those t'ings and probably worse yet ya complain at least once a week about finding a good man? Ya have one of two good men standing right in front of ya, how much more convincing do ya need before ya can see dat?"

"I may need quite a bit more convincing, but after the performance you just gave, I'm willing to go against every single one of my moral codes and give you a second chance. If you want me to give Connor a second chance, his form of apology had better be up to par with yours. I don't want you thinking that you can just fuck your way into forgiveness every time either of you bring up a less than pleasant subject. I need you to understand though that I have my walls up for a reason and if you, and possibly Connor, want to break through those you are going to have to actually work for it."

I watched as he nodded his head again and felt myself starting to shake a little bit on the inside. Truthfully, I was more than a little scared of what he may (or may not) say but the fact that I made it clear that I was willing to try something out of my comfort zone was terrifying. A small smile began to appear on his face before he caught me off guard.

"Challenge accepted. Ya up fer round 2?"

I couldn't stop the small laugh that escaped before he was in front of the couch to help me to my feet and backed me up against the wall just to the left of my bedroom door. His lips were on mine while one hand was threading fingers through my hair and the other was sliding painstakingly slow around my hip, over the curve of my ass, and landing on the back of my leg; his fingers started digging into the flesh as it hitched the limb around his body. He stepped further into the space that was created as I felt my leg molding to him. His lips detached from mine and worked their way along my jaw-line to my neck and ear; his now free hand sweeping along the heated plane of my abdomen, suddenly changing course and rapidly making its descent southward. A sharp gasp escaped when I threw my head back against the wall when I felt his short, ragged nails lightly graze along my clit; two fingers slid through my folds and his thumb started a steady circular pressure against that bundle of nerves. His stubble-lined check scratched against my neck as the muscles in his face twitched into a smirk.

"I'm not gonna stop till yer hoarse from screaming _my_ name."

My arms moved on their volition to his shoulders, my fingers sliding under the fabric frantically attempting to push it down his arms. He pulled his hands away from me long enough so I could disrobe him but he kept his hips pressed into mine, pinning me to the wall. The second the robe was on the floor, his hands were on me again, lifting my other leg from the floor, rapidly sheathing himself inside me once again and I was forced to rely on the wall to keep my upright as my arms wound themselves around his neck, tucking my head down as I tried to concentrate on the feeling of this newly created angle. It's been so long since the last time I slept with someone who made me feel so full yet craving more that I never wanted this to end.

"Mind…if we…try…something…a little…different?" I huffed out as his thrusts turned into quick, unpredictable bursts of energy that left me gasping after each one.

"What'd ya have in mind?"

He stilled his movements temporarily as I requested this be moved into the bedroom. On days when I was too lazy to go to the gym and I wanted to do some work on my arms, I had put in a pull-up bar between the bed and the closet set about six feet off the ground. I directed him to stand in front of the bar so I could grab onto it and stretch my back out. It would take at least half of the weight off of him but would also allow us a wider range of movement. That is until I unexpectedly let go of the bar when my hands started sweating themselves out of the death grip I had.

"Much as I like it when ya put me on my back, next time we do dat I t'ink I may have ta tie ya ta da bar ta keep ya from doing dat again."

I slapped his shoulder lightly as I started drifting off into a post-coital bliss using his chest as a pillow as the sound of his heartbeat hammering away inside his chest pulled me deeper into sleep. His hands on my hips lifting them to allow himself to fall out with an audible pop was all I remembered of round two.

* * *

 _A/N: So what do you think? Smutty enough for you or not enough? Keep in mind there_ is _another MacManus who will be having some play-time in the very near future so if there's something you want done please let me know._ _Comments/reviews welcome, feel free to PM me with any suggestions you may have._


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"Da fuck happened to ya? Looks like Cujo went ta town all over ya." Connor had just walked into the loft he shared with his brother to find him standing in the shower. Murphy's back was to him and Connor could see nothing but traces of red fingernail markings and indentations of what appeared to be teeth over what used to be his brother's pale backside. The tattoo he had on his right shoulder looked angry with the markings and the dried up, crusted over blood that ran down the center made the tattoo look more evil than what it was. In between working 12-14 hour shifts at the plant, Connor had been spending the past couple of nights at Rocco's going over a few plans so tonight was the first he'd seen his brother since Thursday night when they parted ways at McGinty's. Murphy on the other hand had taken a few vacation days at the last minute upon learning that Red was off work leaving Connor to fill in for him on the second shift.

While they were sitting in the bar Thursday night hassling Doc's new hires, he overheard Doc telling Rocco that he could only stay for a few minutes before the boys started tearing the bar apart. His curiosity was piqued so after Doc had disappeared behind the bar to grab his cap and coat, Connor slapped a hand on his buddy's shoulder asking where it was they were heading off too on a Thursday night. It wasn't unusual for Rocco to just randomly leave, especially when something work-related happened to pop up, but in all the years they had been going to McGinty's Connor had never once seen Doc leave the bar until well after closing and that wasn't until after everything was cleaned up, put away, and the register was counted. Even then he would usually let the twins, Rocco, and on occasion a few stragglers stay to keep him company or stay the night when they were too drunk to even stand.

"Just a little party that we got invited to. We're only going to stay for a little bit; you know congratulations, job well done, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year. That kind of shit."

"Congratulations? Job well done? Doesn't sound like any party I'd want ta get roped inta going ta; what did one of yer boss's top o' da line get someone knocked up and they're celebrating da fact dat he's not shooting blanks?"

Connor had already downed a couple of shots of whiskey and was working his way through his third beer when Murphy's laugh broke through over the noise of the Thursday night crowd. Murphy was already drunker than he was; granted he had already been in the place at least an hour before Connor had showed up.

"Red's last d…d…day of school was today, she invited a few of us over for a p…pa…party…"

Doc's stuttering was cut off by another one of the regulars who added that neither of them were invited.

"Why da fuck would we want ta go? She's a fucking cunt anyway. Did ya know-"

"Murph! Shut yer fucking mouth!"

"Or what? Ya going to shut it fer me?"

The fight was on as both Doc and Rocco left the building with the new bartenders struggling to break the brothers apart. Most of the patrons surrounded the pair, encouraging their behavior while the idlers stayed firmly planted in their seats nursing their drinks and telling the tall tales of the lives they wished were as exciting as what they made them out to be. Connor knew that his brother didn't actually mean what he said, but being as drunk as he was he had no filter to stop the words from flying out. His brother wouldn't have taken three days off from work at the last minute if he didn't want to try to get back into her good graces.

Connor was brought back to reality as his brother's voice rang out over the spray of the shower head.

"Ya should see what da front looks like. By da way, she's an insatiable one; can never get enough no matter what ya do ta her or how hard ya go. If ya t'ink what she did ta me is impressive, ya should see what I did ta her."

Connor could practically hear the smirk as Murphy began scrubbing away at his hair. "Did ya actually use your words dis time or take what Charlie said literally and show up on her doorstep, naked as the day ya were born?" He already knew the answer but his curiosity had won out.

"Wouldn't say I showed up stark naked, but I had da decency to wear my robe down there. Although I t'ink I might've given da neighbors more of a peep show den originally anticipated. She said she'd be willing ta give ya a second chance too if your way of apologizing is as good as mine, but dere's no way ya can beat your _older_ brother in da performance department."

Murphy knew that emphasizing that he was the elder of the two would always get under Connor's skin. Despite being twins neither of them knew who came out first. It was something their Ma would take to the grave and the only thing they had to go on was a cruel joke that she played on them months ago.

"Shut yer fucking mouth! I had ice on mine dat day. Just fucking hurry up, Roc's waiting fer us; says he might have a job fer us."

"You got any details dat I need ta know about? I'd rather not go inta dis job completely blind."

"No fucking clue what da hell is going on; Roc just said ta meet him at da diner tonight. Only t'ing he would tell me was dat dis guy makes da ones we've been doing look like altar boys. Sounds like it's going ta be a challenge if ya ask me. Also got some of da plans on Yakavetta worked out dat we'll fill ya in on later."

"Well den, I guess it sounds like he trusts us enough ta start moving up da corporate ladder ta much bigger fish. Just tell me dis, do any of t'ese plans involve yer stupid fuckin' rope?"

"Charlie, when I told you you could tell them that the only way they'd ever get me to talk to them was if they showed up with their pants around their ankles and wearing hard-ons; I didn't think you would _actually_ tell them that. For God's sake, don't you know sarcasm when you hear it? For that matter, haven't you learned by now that when I'm drunk all rational thinking goes out the fucking window? I swear to God, if you _ever_ do something like that again I will cut your balls off and use them as a fetch toy for the cats."

"You're too fucking violent, you know that? Look, I'm sorry, I didn't think either of them would do anything. Haven't you learned by now that when you start drinking, the truth comes out? But since you brought it up, let's have all the juicy details. You've been needing to get laid for a while now and your resting bitch face has eased up a bit. C'mon, tell me, was it Connor, Murphy, or both? What spaces do I have to avoid until they are sanitary again?"

Okay, I have to admit when I came into work on this crappy Monday that I did have a little extra pep in my step and having gone at least 3 or 4 rounds with Murphy had put me on cloud nine (I lost count after hitting my head on the bathroom mirror). But with this week being Christmas, I was a little more excited about getting out of Boston and going back home for the next two weeks.

"You knew exactly what you were doing when you told them so don't even try to say you're sorry. It was just Murphy and I don't think you will ever find a place to sit that is sanitized unless you buy me all new furniture including the kitchen table. I will say that I refrained from using anything in the closet. Besides, it was just sex; nothing meaningful will ever come from it. Although I wouldn't mind having it happen again. I probably shouldn't be saying anything on the subject, but he told me that after you made mention that I was off work this past weekend he called into work to take a few days off and made his brother take over his shifts. Apparently you were right about them having a plan and he was going to stretch it out over the course of the entire weekend if Friday morning had gone south."

After that, I had turned back around in my chair to try and get through some more of the boxes I had taken out of the vault. These had already been cleaned and left to dry out; today they needed to be counted, weighed, measured, and entered into the database. I had taken five boxes out of the vault and was still working on my first. However, Charlie refused to drop the subject and continued to press me for answers.

"You're holding back; something else happened during your little soiree that you're not telling me. C'mon, out with it before I start telling them all of the embarrassing stories of your childhood that you've told me during your drunken nights."

I groaned, I really have told Charlie way too much about me and I have no doubt about it that he'd find some way to use it against me. At this point, it was just easier to clear the air. For all I know he probably already has started telling them stories of my childhood although I'm sure that would pale in comparison to theirs: growing up in the rolling green hills of the Irish countryside and their poor mom trying to keep them from causing more trouble than what they were worth.

"Fine, but you cannot breathe a word of this to another living being and I mean it. No one can know that I told you this and if you do, I will deny every bit of it. This is mine to tell when I'm ready and not before."

I broke down and told Charlie everything that I had told Murphy. That I was willing to give him a second chance; that I was willing to let my guard down to let him in. If Connor wanted what I was giving his brother he'd have to come up with his own way of saying sorry. I'm not used to giving anyone a second chance when they fuck up let alone let my guard down. This was all new territory for me and I needed time; I was hoping that being home with my family for the next two weeks would be enough for me to be able to wrap my head around what I was doing.

The next couple of days flew by quickly, pretty soon it was Wednesday night and I found myself staring around the bedroom making a mental checklist to make sure I had packed everything I would need for the next two weeks. Christmas was on Saturday and there was a band of snow heading towards St. Louis that I wanted to beat before it arrived. A series of crashes echoing through the apartment tore me from my thoughts. Thinking it was someone trying to break-in through the fire escape I grabbed my gun from the dresser and made a beeline for the window, double checking to make sure the magazine was full and there was a round in the chamber.

"Connor, what the fuck do you think you're doing? Are you trying to get yourself shot just days before Christmas?" Putting the safety back on and clearing the chamber, I sighed, pulling the window open as a gust of cold wind came flying through.

"Get da gun out of my face den I can explain. Are ya going ta let me in or let me freeze my balls off out here?"

"I ought to let you freeze out there, but I guess you can come in. Just take your shoes off."

He had shoved his way through the window, pushing me off to the side. The man was crazy, but not _as_ crazy as his brother. Murphy waltzed into my apartment like a brazened bull wearing a thinning bathrobe and just dropped it on my floor. Connor on the other hand, was wearing a black short sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans. At this point it's hard to say which of the two was crazier considering that it feels like the temperature in both the great outdoors as well as the main hallway outside my door virtually felt the same.

Why did he have to choose tonight of all nights to pull this shit? Why couldn't he have done this last night? As I went to shut the window, I was almost scared to turn around. This was becoming a little bit too much like my encounter with Murphy. Not that I would complain about seeing another naked man in front of me, but they just mirror each other too much.

I caught a glimpse of Connor's reflection in the glass of the window making its approach but had no time to review the words he muttered in my ear when I felt his fingertips brush against the exposed skin of my hips from where the fleece pj pants had slightly fallen in my haste to the window; his voice was hypnotic as it dropped an octave and dripped with that…I don't know what but it sounded as smooth as molasses. Whatever it was though, it had me chewing at the interior of my bottom lip and had my brain kicking into overdrive as the words rolled off his tongue sending a rush of anticipation past the pit of my stomach and into my panties.

" _Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir_?"

I watched in the glass as his tongue darted out and mapped out a line along the side of my neck. Closing my eyes, my head involuntarily fell back against his shoulder as my left arm reached up to ensnare his hair between my fingers; a sudden rash of goosebumps sprang up when the tip of his tongue reached my earlobe. One hand remained on my hip while his arm slowly started snaking its way across my stomach until his fingers started digging in.


	15. Chapter 15

_Author's Note: Huge shoutout to Valerie E. Mackin for reading through this chapter before it going "live." With her help I think I may have almost doubled the content. Also, the extent of my French is very limited, we're talking one semester in community college. So if anyone is fluent in the language and knows that something is wrong, please let me know so I can fix it._

 **Chapter 15**

I knew I was in trouble the moment he started speaking French. I only knew a few words and phrases, mainly the dirty ones; my sister took it all four years of high school and I had only dabbled in it during my time at community college. It was fun learning another language, but learning how to talk dirty in the language makes it all the more interesting.

Before I had the chance to process what it was he was asking Connor had me turned around and had my back pressed against the cold glass. "I never pegged you for a Patti LaBelle fan." I joked in between his hungry kisses, but he merely grunted. His mouth was virtually everywhere while his hands held me in place. Every now and then, his fingers would slide under my shirt and skate across my flesh, eliciting a variety of goosebumps, moans, and groans. If he wanted my blood boiling before he fucked me, then I was well on my way.

He had more self-control than his brother did, I'll give him that, but not all men are immune to their own desires. While he was busy creating marks over my neck and chest to cover the ones his brother had made, I ran my fingers through his hair and brought him closer to me. When he turned his head slightly to nibble away at a particular spot, I took the opportunity to gently suck on his ear lobe. I felt the groan rumbling from his chest before I heard it. He kept his attention trained on my neck until I felt my legs tremble and start to give out.

" _En Franҫais_ " I demanded. When he was satisfied that was my neck was littered with his marks he stopped what he was been doing and placed a hand on the top of my head, forcing me to my knees. I knew what he wanted, but I wanted to hear him say it. I can't really explain it, but there is just something so incredibly sexy about being commanded in a foreign language that sends my libido into overdrive. Biting my lower lip, I felt myself getting wetter with the anticipation of both the command and the words that he would choose.

" _Sucer ma bite_ " he muttered, pulling my hair into his fist and pushing his hips closer to my face.

Once I was on my knees, I pulled his belt open and whipped it through belt loops, sending it to the floor with a loud clank (I could only hope he'd use it on me later). My fingers trembled slightly as they worked in tandem to free him from the jeans he'd been wearing but once I finally got him free, I had to pause for a moment to take in what I was seeing. Shaking my head a little bit, I placed my left hand on his thigh to brace myself and grabbed his cock with my right. I glanced up at him, silently asking if my grip was too tight or not tight enough. He wrapped his free hand around mine and tightened his grip slightly and moved it along his length at the speed that he wanted. When he released my hand I kept the pace that he set for a little bit longer before I licked my lips and wrapped them around the head of his cock.

Keeping eye contact, I worked my way around his length at broken intervals to keep him guessing; switching between slow deep throats and fast hollowed strokes, occasionally twisting my wrist and lightly dragging my nails along the underside of his shaft to make up for what was not in contact with my mouth. I loved watching the way his face would change with my actions, how his breath would catch in his throat when I would take him deep, when he would release the breath he had just been holding after I started backing off. His expressions alone had me experimentally touching and playing with myself while he was lost in what I was doing. A strangled groan escaped one of us and I was brought back to reality when I began feeling him tense up as he hit the back of my throat again. Without warning he slammed his hips towards my face, forcing me to take all of him in, and unloaded. When he finally released the death grip from my hair, I pulled my head back and could only look at him with anger and puffed out cheeks.

" _Avaler._ " I have not been commanded to do something like that in so long, but I couldn't help it that I got wetter when he spoke.

I did as I was told and was quickly pulled back to my feet. He made quick work of the shirt and bra that I was wearing before pressing my bare back into the cold glass again. I nearly squealed at the shock it gave me, but this only served to drive him on further. As my back arched off the glass, he took the opportunity to tug on the fleece pj bottoms along with my underwear down to the floor. As he was stepping out of the pair of jeans that pooled around his ankles, I managed to find enough strength and breath to push my back off the glass to reach for the hem of his shirt. It dropped to the floor, landing forgotten somewhere in the puddle of cotton, denim, and fleece as he pressed me back onto the cold glass.

Just when things started progressing in the right direction, one of the cats decided to make his appearance. Apparently, he thought the squeal that I let out was a cry of agony and came running to the rescue. He also thought Connor's cock was a toy and so the claws came out.

"Son of a bitch! Where's dat fucking t'ing, I'm going ta fucking kill him!"

I tried not to laugh, but threatening one of my cats quickly took the urge away. "Touch either of my cats and you can walk your sorry ass out that door right now. He didn't mean it; he just thought I was in trouble. Let's move this into the bedroom where you won't get attacked again and we can pick this up right where we left off. If it's any consolation, at least he didn't draw blood."

Connor grumbled some more about the cat but reluctantly let it go and followed me into the bedroom after I picked the belt up off of the floor and cracked the worn leather against his bare ass; needless to say he shut and locked the door. He also checked under the bed to make sure the other one wasn't hiding. Once the room got the all clear, he backed me up against one of the two windows that were in the bedroom. These were slightly smaller than the one leading out to the fire escape but still freezing cold none the less. My back arched against the cold pane and Connor swiftly moved to his knees, picking up one of my legs and letting the back of my knee come to rest over his shoulder; effectively opening me up to him.

" _Je peux vous sentir_ " he said, inhaling deeply. I watched helplessly as his tongue darted out and moved up from the bottom of my opening, pausing momentarily to tease my clit a couple of times and insert a finger, turning his wrist and dragging the crooked digit along my inner walls. The action alone had me biting my lip and fighting to keep the groan that was building at bay. I wrapped the belt around my neck and looped the end through the buckle, tightening it as he brought me closer to the edge.

" _Baise-moi!_ " Seeing him do that caused me to lose it and I wanted nothing more than to be fucked. I pushed him to his back and positioned myself over him; watching his face as I sunk down onto him, stopping for a minute to feel the difference between him and his brother, Connor had the length but Murphy had the girth. Once I began moving, I felt Connor reaching places that I had forgotten about; places that I didn't even know existed. At one point, I felt him reach one of those long forgotten places and began shouting his name as an unexpected orgasm hit.

As I was coming down from my high he quickly sat up and pulled me off of him; flipping me onto my hands and knees, taking up the slack on the belt and pulling my head up. He slammed into me at a punishing pace and I couldn't help the moan that escaped. I was on the precipice again and was searching for that little bit extra that would send me over the edge. I reached under myself, making an attempt at finishing the job when I felt Connor smack my hand away and cupped his hand around my apex.

"If ya want it, I want ya begging for it." He punctuated his statement with a sharp, resounding slap to my ass that echoed throughout the room.

"I've never begged for it before and I'm not starting tonight. You'll have to work harder than that." My breathing was turning ragged as the whole being fucked from behind has never really been a position I enjoyed.

My words spurred him on, yet when he found that I wasn't going to beg, he tried a multitude of things to get me to cave; spanking my ass until it was red, pulling my hair, pulling the belt taut, running his nails along my ribs. I will admit it nearly got me there, but not quite. When he came to the conclusion that I wasn't going to budge from my decision he pulled out and put me on my back, wrapping a leg around his waist, always keeping the tension on the belt tight. The angle was perfect: not only was he hitting all the right spots, but he was grinding his pubic bone against my clit when his hips would roll. I screamed out my release after a few strokes. He soon followed pulling the belt tighter than it had ever been. When he finally started to relax he eased the tension on the belt and laid his head between my breasts, absentmindedly playing with the skin that came into contact with his calloused hands. I couldn't help shuttering under his touch when he unknowingly scratched his short, jagged nails along the skin that clung to my ribs

"Does dis mean ya forgive me?" he asked, sounding hopeful.

"Do us both a favor, would you? Shut up and don't spoil the moment. I'll forgive you if you can do one round more than what your brother did. I realize I sound more than a little bitchy, but I mean it; if you want me to forgive you, I want you to fuck me through the floor until we're on the ground level."

"Murph was right about ya being insatiable, but sex won't always be a resolution ta confrontation. You'll have ta use yer words and logic eventually."

"Kind of hard to use logic when you fuck me like that and thanks to that brother of yours I've had sex on the brain since Friday night. To be honest, I was expecting both of you to show up at my door and tag team me rather than just Murphy."

"I could tell you how dat came ta be or I can dig further into my extensive vocabulary and get ya ta be more den agreeable ta a few more t'ings in a couple of different languages. But dis time we're doing it my way and it'll be painfully slow; I'm going ta drag it out fer as long as I can."

I felt my stomach drop and the excitement of anticipation take over as he picked his head up from my chest planting a variety of kisses on my skin. I could feel my face flush with his words and my body heat up again with his actions.

"If it's painfully slow you're aiming for, then you're going to need a blindfold, handcuffs, and some strong rope." I muttered in his ear while one of his hands was busy teasing the flesh between my legs and the other was wrapped up in the tangled mess of hair he created earlier in the evening.

He continued creating a sporadic trail of heat along my body, switching it up between open-mouthed kisses and using his tongue to trace the outline of where his lips had been previously. His hand worked its way out of my hair down to the belt that was still around my neck. Pulling the strap free of the buckle, he loosened it up until he was able to slide it off the back of my neck then slinging it across the floor until it came to rest somewhere out of sight. Propping himself up on his elbow, I watched him with hooded eyes as he took in the sight of the purple bruises that were previously hidden on my neck. His face scrunched up while the hiss escaped from between his bared teeth. His eyes held a look of regret and sorrow, it reminded me of how a person would look when they thought something or someone was in throes of agony and they wanted to put them out of their misery.

"Connor, don't give me that look. You did nothing wrong, okay? If I thought you had pushed it too far I would've told you. How about this, if either of us think the other is pushing it too far we use a safe word. It doesn't have to be anything too outrageous, just a completely random word that neither of us would normally say while having sex. This one guy I was seeing yelled out Daffy Duck every time I would try to be just a little bit of a dominatrix. He was an asshole anyway; he never wanted to try anything new. It always had to be missionary or nothing. He was into plain, boring vanilla sex then he tried to guilt trip me into getting rid of my toys saying it wasn't natural that a woman has those in her bedroom. Sorry, I'm rambling; I tend to do that a lot when I start getting uncomfortable."

"Are ya sure I didn't hurt ya? I mean I heard t'rough da grapevine about what me brudder did to ya, but dis is completely foreign territory fer me. Me Ma would kill me if she ever found out about dis; I've done t'ings before but never anyt'ing like dis. Da furthest I'd ever gone was just some handcuffs and even den she called it quits after less den five minutes."

"Connor, seriously you did not hurt me and you did nothing wrong. My ex did way worse than you and your brother put together. I promise, the only way your mom would ever find out about this is if you openly tell her. You're familiar with the phrase of what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, right? Well what happens in this bedroom stays in this bedroom. What you and I do in here will not be public knowledge unless you want it to be. Are you good?"

He had completely withdrawn his hands from me and sat on the floor straddling my legs as I propped myself up on my elbows, waiting for an answer. He nodded his head slowly, letting my words sink in. Connor still looked rather weary and reluctant to do anything further for tonight so rather than push him to be more adventurous I opted for something that I haven't done in a long time with another man: I let him stay the night. Connor just seemed to be too rattled about the marks around my neck to even try to re-focus on sex.

"I normally don't do this sort of thing, but why don't you climb into bed and we'll call it a night? Just promise me that you'll at least think about what I told you. If you're agreeable to it, we can try for the ropes and cuffs at another time."

I had started to pull my feet from under his legs when he made a grab for my ankle, stopping my movements at once. He waited until he had my undivided attention before speaking, his voice taking on that same tone it had earlier tonight; the one that caused my stomach to knot up and just dripped with that spine-tingling…a shudder ran up my spine as I tried to commit that tone to memory.

"Give me five minutes and round two will commence filled with da filthy promises of what I told ya earlier. I'm not going ta lie, I'm more den a little disturbed dat yer okay with dis but I've been looking fer someone who's not averse ta trying new t'ings. Dat being said, get yer arse in dat bed."

His eyes had started to blacken over as the blue in his irises disappeared, not wanting to miss out on the plan that he was formulating I scampered onto the bed sitting in the middle of the mattress. His back was turned to me as I was temporarily blinded by the light coming on inside the closet. I didn't realize I was holding my breath until things started clattering against each other on the shelves. Despite Connor's back being to me I couldn't help but stare at his backside and started imagining what it would look like with a few well-placed marks.

"Certainly wasn't expecting to find dis in der, t'ink maybe we could try it one night? Maybe fer yer birthday if it's comin' up in da near future."

I looked between Connor and what he was showing me, it was definitely something that I've been wanting to break in for a while now but I just never found the right person to be agreeable to it. If Connor was asking now then he may be the guy that I've been looking for that could help pacify the voice in my head that talked me into sleeping with Murphy. Maybe these two could put that kinky little bitch back inside her cage where she belongs.

"I'll think about it. You find what you were looking for in there or do you need some help?"

"Found da blindfold, but where's da fuckin' rope?"

"Bottom shelf inside the box that says 'bondage.' There are different types in there so you're welcome to use whatever you feel comfortable with. I'm not going to bother telling you what I prefer because I don't want you to form any kind of pre-conceived notions about me."

He pulled out one of the more worn out pieces of rope, the ends were fraying as well as the body. This particular one my ex had used on me every chance he got; I was thankful that it was a black rope that way Connor wouldn't be put off by the blood stains that would've shown up on any of the lighter colored pieces that were stowed away in the same box. As he made his return from the closet, the rope was slung over his shoulder and my red satin blindfold dangled off the tip of his right index finger. The sweat on his chest shone against the stream of moonlight that filtered through the window, his hair was disheveled and screamed that he just got laid and wanted to show off to the rest of the world just how talented he was in the sheets.

"Leave dis on and don't do anyt'ing unless I tell ya, understand? We're doing t'ings my way dis time; one way or anot'er you'll be begging me before da night is t'rough."


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: Another_ HUGE _shout-out to Valerie E. Mackin for giving this a once over before posting. As always, comments/reviews welcome. Feel free to PM me with any suggestions you may have._

 **Chapter 16**

As the sun began to creep over the horizon, bringing a dim ray of light into my darkened bedroom, I awoke to thankfully find my bed absent of a body. Mentally I was not prepared to wake up with Connor still in the bed. I also was not prepared to hear the toilet flushing while I was still lying in bed either. Instinctively, I quickly closed my eyes and rolled over to my side so my back was facing the door, I made sure that all of the marks that Murphy made on my back were fully exposed so Connor was well aware of what his brother did. Maybe if Connor thought I was still sleeping he'd take that as a sign and just leave. The door creaked open then quietly closed again; holding my breath I waited until either he came back to bed or for the front door to open. I released my breath as I heard the front door open. Quickly climbing out of the bed, I made my way to the dresser and started pulling out a clean shirt to wear as well as a pair of yoga pants; perfect travel attire for getting on a plane.

I didn't bother to tell Connor or Murphy that I was going out town, but figured Charlie would let them know if they asked. When I had gotten off the plane on Thursday morning, my sister was waiting in the passenger pick-up lane. She got one look at me and was grinning ear to ear; she knew what the marks meant but seemed a little perplexed as to who would agree to willingly put those marks on me.

"Let's go to Fuzzy's for breakfast and then I'll tell you everything you're dying to know. If you want the X-rated version we'll have to get the girls together one night next week for happy hour and go down to Gettemeier's."

Thankfully my sister opted to wait until next Wednesday when we could get together with a couple of our cousins and when my two best friends were free. Although she kept repeating that she couldn't believe I'd let someone do that to me again, she more or less dropped the subject for the time being. She knew that my ex was the only person I had ever let put any type of mark or bruise on me so she was more than surprised to see the way I looked when I climbed into the car. Had I known any better, her jaw just about hit the concrete when she caught sight of the bruise that Connor's belt had left around my neck. We talked about nearly everything that's happened since I moved. I told her about my job, how school was going, caught her up on how our aunt and uncle were. I even mentioned Charlie, but never told her about Connor or Murphy; I wouldn't even know where to begin when the subject of those two would come up on Wednesday night.

Once we left Fuzzy's, my sister dropped me off at our parents' house. Needless to say, neither of them were too thrilled to see the way I looked. My mom sighed and shook her head; my dad on the other hand had thought my ex had come back from the dead and was making me pay not only for leaving Utah but making up for the lack of sex that he was not getting from me. It took nearly 20 minutes for me to get my dad to calm down enough for me to explain that none of his thoughts were true and that it was nothing more than a pair of one night stands. It took another 20 minutes for me to convince not to take the next flight out to Boston and track down the twins.

Saturday was Christmas and I knew that my mom was going to try to whip out an entire Christmas Day dinner the night before so I had to get my stuff put away in the spare bedroom rather quickly. My mom is like the Terminator in the kitchen: absolutely nothing will stand in the way of her getting a holiday meal on the table at exactly 4:30 p.m. I could fall down the basement stairs carrying a load of laundry and she would still have dinner on the table on time. That being said, my mom was not quite as young as she used to be so over the years I have slowly taken over the reins. This year was going to be the true test of what I've learned. This year, I was doing an entire Christmas dinner for 10 on my own.

Christmas came and went, dinner was a success both in taste as well as the fact that I did not burn the house down. I did manage to burn myself a couple of times as I tried to maneuver around four burners and a hot oven but it comes with the territory. My sister and I made the ten minute drive down to Gettemeier's to find that it was not as full as we thought it would be for a Wednesday night. We were meeting a couple of my best friends and one or two of our cousins here; one of them actually worked at the place so half of our party was already accounted for. None of my friends or cousins had ever seen me wearing the marks that my ex had put on me so of course they thought the worst when they walked through the door and saw the belt marks around my neck. They had faded from a dark, angry purple to a mottled smattering of blue, green, and yellow.

"Well now that we're all here, how about you start spilling the beans. I want the X-rated version and you better not leave out any of the details. Whoever it was must've made a damn good impression for you to allow them to do that." My sister started, as our server went off to place our appetizer order.

"To start, it wasn't just one person; it was a pair of twins. And no, it was not at the same time, much to my dismay. What you're looking at though was the work of one twin, everything hidden under the clothes was his brother. Oh, and they're both Irish."

"How about you start with some names and what they look like then you can go into who you fucked first and who got the sloppy seconds." My cousin Hannah had always been pretty direct and forward, especially after kicking back a few shots. Tonight would be no different.

"The first one I slept with was Murphy; he's got dark hair and blue eyes. Believe it or not he's the more aggressive of the two. You remember that marble table that our great-grandma had in her house? Yeah, we kind of broke it so it's sitting in a landfill somewhere in Boston right now. I still have the base for it, I just need to replace the top. His brother's name is Connor; his hair is lighter in color than Murphy's and he's also got blue eyes. Connor's got more of an athletic build to him than Murphy and he's got a kinky side." I couldn't help the grin that started spreading across my face as I began to recall the events of that night.

"So what you're saying is that they are not identical twins and that they are a tamed version of your psycho ex, right?" My sister started implying.

"I'm going to let that one slide, you say another word against him and I will kick your ass," just before I started revealing the details of my sex-capades with Murphy our server returned to our table with a tray loaded down with appetizers. She set them down asking if we needed anything else before leaving to cash out a few other customers. "Before I get into what happened, let me preface by saying that the night before I had slept with Murphy I had a small party to celebrate the end of the semester and he came over the next day. I was in the bathroom cleaning out the tub since someone decided that it was a urinal; he came in and I found him standing in my hallway as naked as the day he was born and his robe was on the floor at his feet. I will admit that he _did_ remind me of my ex just a little bit because he was so aggressive but after the first fuck got tallied into the books he started to pace himself. I refrained from using anything in closet but he did take it upon himself to go through what I had in the night stand."

I told everyone about how Murphy pushed me along the area rugs that I had placed along the floors of the apartment, how we broke my great-grandmother's table, the pull-up bar in the bedroom, and just about everything in between. I think it would've been too much for them to handle if I told them that somewhere between round three and round four that I had stretched out on the floor for a quick power nap and that Murphy dug out my Jackrabbit from the night stand, making generous use out of it.

"So basically with this Murphy guy, he fucked you through your great-grandmother's table, gave you a bad case of rug burn, and all but bled you out? He sounds exactly like your ex just with an Irish accent. Look, I'm going to cut out early but if you're not busy tomorrow why don't you come by and see the boys? They miss their god-mama and I want you to meet the newest addition to the family."

"I'm going to cut out too, it's past my bedtime and I have to work tomorrow. But you should definitely stop by the office and see everyone. They won't stop asking me how you've been doing and I think it would sound better coming from you rather than me."

I thanked my two best friends for coming out and agreed to make a few pit stops before I caught my flight back to Boston on Saturday morning. So now it was myself, my sister, and our two cousins sitting in the bar and getting drunker by the minute. Pretty soon, after three shots of whiskey, the filter came off and all of the juicy bits of my night with Connor were starting to be filling the room.

 _After the blindfold was placed over my eyes and my wrists were secured by his rope of choice he pushed me back onto the pillows making sure that my arms were above my head and my legs were at least shoulder-width apart. I waited as patiently as I could but the anticipation was damn near killing me as (what I perceived to be) nothing was happening. Under normal circumstances when I was tied up and blindfolded, there was something going on whether it was light touching or teasing but Connor wasn't doing anything to me. All I could hear was him muttering under his breath about where the hooks were._

" _They're in the night stand on the right side of the bed." It was best not to question why he needed a hook so I kept my mouth shut._

" _T'anks. Not another word from ya unless it's my name, understand?"_

 _I nodded in agreement as I heard the drawer quickly open and shut, feeling the cold metal of the hook slide into the empty space that was created between my wrists and the rope. Apparently Connor was smart enough to figure out why there was a bracket on the wall directly in the middle of where the headboard was. He tugged on the apparatus that he created to make sure I wouldn't be able to do anything that he disliked. The mattress sank down as he climbed into the bed, swinging one leg into the space created by my own. My breathing started picking up once I started feeling his breath lightly pass over the parts of my face that were still exposed; he kept himself propped up on one hand while the other grazed down the side of my cheek to my neck, tracing along the outline of where his belt was. A soft moan escaped my parted lips when I started to lean into the touch. He brought his lips down to mine in an effort to capture the sound before it had a chance to disappear._

" _Is breá liom go bhfuil fuaim_ _."_

 _I'd have to try to keep that in mind for later, if I was able to even remember my own name after all of this. He was trying to be careful as he dropped the weight from his hand down to his elbow, moving his face to my neck and his hands to my breasts. A rush air sucked into my lungs had my stomach tightening up more than a little bit almost instantly when his short nails raked along the underside of one of my breasts as he continued to palm at the other. Smirking against my neck, I could feel his lips part just enough to allow for his teeth to scrape against the column of my throat._

" _Beidh mé ag cuimhneamh gur le haghaidh níos déanaí_ _."_

 _Oh, I have no doubt about that, but as I lay sprawled out on the bed I had to remind myself to keep the commentary locked inside my head. The last thing I wanted right now was to open my mouth and have this entire torture stop or let on to the fact I understood every bit of Irish he was saying._

 _While he continued assaulting me with both his mouth and hands, I was fighting to keep my hips firmly planted to the mattress. In the short time that he has spent teasing away at my neck he also spent the same amount of time slowly thrusting his hips into mine, ensuring that his cock was in constant contact with my clit. My resolve was slowly being melted away but I still refused to beg him for what I really wanted._

 _I could feel the marks he was leaving on my neck spring up and redden once he brought his head back up. His eyes were on me watching, waiting for me to react. My chest was heaving as I waited for him to continue yet when I did not give him the reaction he was seeking he brought his lips to my ear, giving me a slight start when it broke the quiet._

" _Ya ready ta start beggin' yet or do I hafta dig a little deeper?"_

" _I told you earlier, I've never begged for it before and I am not starting tonight. You'll have to work harder than that."_

 _I think he was more excited than I was at my refusal to beg. Again he tested to make sure I couldn't get out of the ropes that were still strung above my head before bringing his mouth to my ear again, "you will be regretting dis, sooner or later I always get what I want."_

 _He moved further down my body, brushing one side of his face against my left breast; his left hand went back to palming and teasing my right breast. Again my breathing hitched as the sensations began changing. The tip of his tongue flashed out, wrapping around my nipple, pulling it into his mouth. At times he would trap it between his teeth, attempting to get me to start begging but it only served to pull a deeper moan that caused me to arch my back against my bindings. He seemed temporarily satisfied with this and released my left nipple only to start all over again on my right nipple until he achieved the same affect._

 _His hands moved down to my hips as he continued to move himself along my body. I was almost certain that by now his feet and ankles were dangling over the top of the footboard. There was little relief as he started placing some well calculated marks over my stomach; I personally thought that he felt the need to cover up everything that his brother did in an effort to show that he was the more dominate of the two. His fingertips pressed further into my hips with each breath I took. My heart raced and pounded loudly in my ears the closer his mouth came to where I desperately needed him to be. The voice of that kinky little bitch inside my head was screaming at me to just beg him already, but I refused to give into her demands._

" _Are ya going ta beg me now?"_

' _Yes, beg him to finish what he started, we both know you can't hold out forever.'_

" _Never."_

" _Suit yerself, at least my name will be da last word ya say before ya lose it."_

 _Removing one hand from my hips, a subtle sigh of relief washed over me as a little bit of feeling returned to the places where his fingers dug into the flesh. I would be feeling those bruises in the morning, but for tonight they would remain an afterthought in comparison to what he planned on doing right at this moment._

 _Despite my eyes being covered, I could feel his boring holes straight into the very depths of my shattered soul. It almost felt like he could not only read what it was that I wanted but he could also hear the taunting voice in my head that was begging me to beg him. A section of stubble-lined cheek ran against my inner left thigh then repeated the same pattern on my right side. Goosebumps surfaced at the sensation putting me on high alert as the tips of his free hand teased along my knee. As slowly as he could, he dragged his hand up my leg until it disappeared altogether, resurfacing to separate my lower lips, exposing me to him and the cold air that seeped into the room._

 _Tension temporarily took up residence in his face when he ran the flat of his tongue through the wetness that coated my pussy. The sharp gasp that escaped seemed to have been the reaction he was looking for and he relaxed significantly. He continued to run the flat of his tongue against me until he was sure that I was to the point that I was nearly grinding myself against his face. I never had a fighting chance when he made that final pass over me, wrapping his tongue around my clit before pulling it into his mouth. The grinding had turned into writhing; one hand continued its death grip on my hip and the other was now sinking a pair of fingers inside of me._

 _I was just shy of getting off when he suddenly pulled away and made his way to the head of the bed, gripped my hips, and thrusted himself into me. A sharp gasp of air escaped as he worked at a feverish pace to catch himself up. Time seemed to have dragged on before he finally released the death grip he had on my hips, bringing his arms up to join mine. The thought that he was releasing me from my bindings never crossed my mind until the ropes loosened up and he whispered in my ear for me to hang on. My arms flew to his back as my nails started to dig in; my legs moved on their own to wrap around his waist. The final straw that had me screaming out his name was when he caught my earlobe between his teeth just before his thrusting began to falter._

 _Past experience dictated that I was better off leaving the blindfold alone until Connor was ready to take it off. Either that or he may just leave it on the rest of the night and wake me up at oddball hours of the night to have another go at it. When my breathing returned to normal, I finally gave into the temptations of sleep; rolling over onto my side I felt around in the darkness to determine where I was in the bed in relation to where it felt like Connor was. I wasn't sure what kind of person I was dealing with: had he already gotten out of the bed, did he not want to be touched after sex? Once my hand grazed across his chest, I turned to my other side and started drifting off to sleep. The last thing I remembered was him pulling my back against his chest and his hand coming over the side of my face to peel the blindfold off. One last kiss to the back of my neck and a deep sigh later he was out like a light._

The next two weeks flew by rather quickly and I was reluctant to leave. Charlie had agreed to stop by the apartment twice a day to check in on my boys as well as bring my mail in. I had told Charlie that I'd pay him $150.00 to take care of the cats for me while I was gone which included but was not limited to filling the food bowl, changing the water bowl, cleaning out the litter boxes, and cleaning up any puke piles. For what I was paying him, I hoped that everything was in order and under control.

It was going on noon when I finally walked through the front door of the complex. My flight was scheduled to leave Lambert at 6:00 this morning, but because of weather delays I didn't leave until almost 8:30. When the plane finally landed, the T line I would usually take to get back home wasn't running; something about a body being found on the tracks so I had to get a cab to take me down to McGinty's. I was hungry and needed a beer.

Doc was happy to see me all in one piece and had a pint in front of me before I had a chance to open my mouth. For it being only 11:00 in the morning, the bar was pretty much empty so we shot the shit for an hour or so while I chowed down on cheap appetizers.

"Th…Th…Th…The boys have been asking about ya. They're more den a little pissed dat ya didn't tell 'em where ya were going."

"No offense Doc, but I'm not in any kind of relationship with either one of them. I'm not under any type of obligation to tell them anything that I don't want to especially when I choose to go home for a couple of weeks for Christmas. Thanks for the food and beer though, but I've got to get going; I haven't seen my cats in two weeks and I have missed them." With that I hopped off my bar stool, paid my tab, grabbed my things, and headed home.

I fought against the cold biting wind as I walked the 5 block stretch home. Normally it would've taken about 10-15 minutes to walk the distance but with about three feet of snow on the ground and no one in the neighborhoods volunteering to clear the sidewalks, it took twice as long. However I was surprised to see both Connor and Murphy out front bundled up in pea coats shoveling away at the sidewalk. The building we lived in had a diverse age group but the majority of the people were elderly who were in their 60's and 70's. The neighbor living in the unit to the left of mine was 83 and she was still able to get everywhere on her own. Occasionally she would knock on my door and ask me to help her get the grocery shopping done when it was one of those trips that would lead to buying out almost the entire store.

"Well, well, well, look who decided to come home. We were getting kind of worried about ya when ya didn't answer your door for a week straight."

"If you had a brain inside that head of yours Connor, you would've asked if I had any plans."

"Kind of hard ta t'ink when ya managed to pull any trace of rational thinking from my head and send all da blood rushing down south."

"If that's true, then I've done my job. Tell ya what, you both finish shoveling this sidewalk and when you're done maybe you could work together in getting the blood flowing back into my extremities. And in case you're both wondering, you are both forgiven."

I headed inside and took the elevator up to the third floor. There was a window on each of the five floors that looked out onto the street, so before I headed to my apartment I walked over to the window and glanced down to see the progress. If they continued to work at the feverish pace they set for themselves, they'd be done inside of 15 minutes. I watched as Murphy glanced up and gave me a small wave. I couldn't help but laugh when Connor threw a snowball at the back of his head, hitting him just behind the ear. Of course Murphy had to retaliate and the fight was on.

I left the window laughing, wiping a few stray tears that had fallen and made my way to the front door, stopping to pull my keys out of my pocket. My attention was drawn to my 83 year old neighbor who was leaving her apartment. I told her that the guys were outside clearing the sidewalk but were in the middle of a snowball fight so she had to be careful if she didn't want to get hit in the face. I also told her that neither of them had a chance to salt the stairs.

"When I told 'em dat you had gone home for Christmas, dey looked like my kids when I had taken away dere favorite toys; absolutely pitiful. After da first couple of days, dey started taking turns in between dere shifts at da plant taking care of yer cats. Never knew ya trusted 'em enough to give 'em da spare key."

I gave Charlie my spare set of keys for both the mailbox and the apartment because I knew I could trust him not to judge me on the kind of mail I got or what my apartment looked like. Charlie was now on my shit list and I was going to have to listen to both Connor and Murphy hassle me about the paycheck I got from my side job. It wasn't anything illegal it was just something I did late at night to make a little extra to pay the bills. I had taken the job because it paid rather well and it served as a distraction that allowed me to put off writing my papers for as long as possible.

Another hour passed by before I heard familiar voices out in the hallway. If what my neighbor had told me was true about them having the spare then they probably wouldn't even bother knocking but, out of habit I always threw the chain. I was busy in the kitchen getting the pile of dirty dishes rinsed and put in the dishwasher when I heard the locks being turned. I had left everything spotless when I left so leave it to these two (and probably several of their buddies) to make a mess and not even bother to take the garbage out.

"Hey Red, would ya mind letting us in? Getting kind of cold standing in dis hallway; we may need some warming up too if yer still offering." Murphy called out through the opening that the door allowed.

"Throw the keys inside and come back in 10 minutes." I shouted, taking my hair down. It was hard enough to hear him over the running water and I didn't want to really see either of them at the moment; at least not until I had everything straightened up again.

"But ya said-"

"I know what I fucking said; I'm telling you now to drop the keys inside the door and come back in 10 minutes. Jesus fucking Christ!"

"Lord's name!" they said together before I heard the keys clanging to the floor and the door being shut.

Ten minutes later I finally had the kitchen cleaned up and the dishwasher running; I had just sat down when I heard a rather soft knock at my door. Confused, I got up from the couch and made my way down the hallway; peering down through the peephole, I saw my neighbor standing outside my door.

"Aoife, what's wrong?" I asked as I opened the door, stepping outside.


	17. Chapter 17

_Author's Note: Another shout out to Valerie E. Mackin for giving this a once over! Before we get started kids, the curse that Aoife says translates to "May the cat eat you and may the Devil eat the cat." Irish curses are vastly different than what we typically think of a curse to be. For the Irish if you were going to curse them, you were going to curse their immortal souls or wish for some of the worst bad luck imaginable; this particular curse is basically saying "May you be twice eaten in Hell." I also had to add in a few humorous curses towards the end because in the words of Connor MacManus, "it seemed like the thing to do at the time." As always, comments/reviews welcome, PM me with any suggestions you may have._

 **Chapter 17**

"I ran inta Connor on me way back inside, he looked rather hurt. Said he didn't want ta talk about it but Murphy was upstairs t'rowing and breaking t'ings around in der apartment. I t'ought maybe dey got inta anot'er one of der usual scraps but Connor wasn't bleeding. Who knows where dat boy has gone off ta, but maybe ya could go upstairs and find out what's eating away at Murphy."

Aoife was right; it wasn't like them to just go their separate ways when they were pissed at each other. Their solution to everything was to beat the shit out of one another until one admitted defeat. I know it's rather caveman-ish, but whatever works for them. I offered to help Aoife get the groceries put away but being the stubborn Irish woman that she is, she told me to make myself useful and play detective.

Reluctantly, I listened to my elder and went back inside my apartment to grab my keys so I could lock-up the place. I was hoping that this wouldn't result in an argument that led to the burning of bridges that were just starting to be re-built. I took the elevator up to the fifth floor and could hear the sound of glass breaking as it hit the walls and aluminum cans hitting the floor. Just before I knocked on the door I heard what sounded like the table being flipped and crashing to the ground. Hesitating, I knocked on the door and waited for the noise to die down; I stood on the other side of the door shaking. I haven't been this scared of any one person in a long time.

"Fucking go away! I'm not hurting anyone, so dere's no need ta be calling da cops."

"Murphy, open the door. I'm not going away until you let me in."

"Da fuck do ya want? Haven't ya done enough damage already? You're such a fucking hypocritical cunt, ya know dat? Go on get da fuck out of here!"

My ex had quite a mouth on him when he was angry and an even bigger one when he was out of his mind, but he never once called me by that name or used the word around me. I knew he used it rather frequently but he knew I didn't tolerate that word regardless of whether or not it was directed at me. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to break down the door and choke Murphy to death.

"Since you're being an asshole today, I guess I don't owe you a fucking thing. I told you that I don't give second chances and there was a very specific reason why I don't give those out. This was your second chance and now you can kiss it good-bye."

I turned on my heel to leave when I heard another set of loud bangs coming from inside their apartment and watched as the door flew open just as I had shut the gate on the elevator. Rather than going back home, I rode the elevator down to the ground level. I had to get out of there before I said or did something that I would regret and being called a name like that with such acid behind it just hurt. I ran into Connor on my way out as he was coming in, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. He didn't say a word to me, but he did make sure that when he shoved past me that his shoulder connected with mine and sent me flying off the stairs onto my ass on the cold, slippery cement. Whether it was accidental or not, I could care less as I picked myself up off the ground, rubbing the spot where I landed.

I was officially done with both of them at this point. I had a valid reason and if they didn't want to listen then fuck them both and the horses they rode in on. All that I was going to tell them was that I needed 10 minutes to get everything straightened up and put away. How hard was that to understand? The cold hit me hard after I had gone about wandering aimlessly around the streets of South Boston with no apparent destination in mind. There really wasn't any place I could go that the boys didn't frequent or knew who they were. It was times like this I wish I had never left home in the first place.

It was going on nightfall when I finally decided to head back home. I'd have to go back there eventually, more for my cats than for myself and besides that, I had left in such a hurry that I didn't even bother grabbing a sweater or a coat. When I finally reached the door of the building, my entire body felt numb as I was enveloped in the semi-warm hallways, if I didn't know any better I could've sworn my lips were turning blue; I only hoped that I had enough strength in me to get a hot bath going to try and warm myself up. Needless to say, I was surprised when I stepped off the elevator to see both Connor and Murphy sitting on the floor next to each other directly across from my door.

I never said a word to either of them as I unlocked my door, putting my foot in front of the opening to make sure the cats didn't try to get out. When the boys got up from their spots, I merely shook my head 'no' at them and quietly shut the door behind me. I was hurt and I was fucking freezing. Maybe after a hot bath and a couple glasses of wine that I brought back with me, I may be up for talking.

* * *

"What did ya two idiots do ta piss da poor girl off?"

"Aoife, she started it when she yelled at us. She told us she forgave us and den she changes her mind and starts digging inta us again. It's not our fault she's damaged goods." Connor stated when Aoife had let them inside for a little bit. She had heard them outside in the hallway pounding their fists against her neighbor's door and poked her head out to see what was going on.

"Ow! Da hell was dat for?" Murphy cried out as the elderly woman slapped them both in the back of the heads.

"If dere's one t'ing I have learned about dat girl in da time dat she's lived next door to me it's dat she's not damaged goods. She's been hurt a lot in da past and she can't find herself able ta trust anyone. I ran inta her earlier on me way to da grocery store, she was going on about a certain pair of twins dirtying up her kitchen and not taking da garbage out. Did ya ever stop ta t'ink dat she needed dat time to clean up da mess ya made? So let's have it, what did ya say or do ta make her take back dat second chance she decided to give ya?"

"I might've knocked her down da stairs outside when she was leaving; but it was an accident t'ough. I saw her get up and go on her merry way." Connor confessed, hanging his head low with each word he spoke. Aoife's choice of words left him feeling rather guilty, a feeling that he wasn't used too.

"I called her da C-word and meant it." Murphy deadpanned. There was no use in beating around the bush when your elders chose to use their years of wisdom as a weapon.

Aoife had raised 5, God-fearing, Catholic children and knew good and well that they were bound to swear and use the Lord's name in vain. She would chastise them for it and their preacher made sure that the Hail Mary's and Our Fathers were appropriate for what came out during confession. The boys refrained from using any type of swear word in front Aoife because they knew her wrath could equal that of their Ma's and depending on the severity of the crime, it could be worse.

She gasped at Connor's confession of pushing Red to ground knowing that she could've slipped on the ice and seriously injured herself. She also knew what Murphy meant by the 'C-word' and nearly had a heart attack.

" _Go n-ithe an cat thú is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat._ _"_ Aoife cursed the pair before throwing them back out the door, making them wait until Red brought herself back about 4 hours later.

* * *

I sat in a tub full of hot water for nearly an hour; thankfully there were no signs of frostbite after I got out. I was pretty tired but not tired enough to go to bed for the night. I brought two bottles of my favorite local wine with me from home and I wasn't about to let the opportunity for one glass slip away from me. After I got dressed, I peered down through the peephole to find Connor and Murphy exactly where I had left them. They actually looked like they were sorry, but I couldn't trust looks alone. Leaning my head against the door, I made the decision to let them inside. I don't owe them anything but one can always hold out a little bit of hope for an apology.

Opening the door, I gestured for them to come in, asking that they take their shoes off upon entry. Connor was the last one in so he shut the door and threw the chain on it for me as I retreated to the kitchen to open up my bottle of wine.

"Start talking and the word 'sorry' better not be in any sentence that comes out of either of your mouths. I took the risk of giving you both a second chance and you just throw it back in my face like it means nothing to you."

"We never meant ta leave yer place looking like it did, we didn't know ya were coming home today ot'erwise we would've done da dishes before going outside. We had ta take da stairs last week when da lift broke down again and we heard a bunch of noise coming from one of da apartments t'inking it was just a bunch of drunks having a party so we t'ought we'd do some investigating." Connor started, kicking out of his boots.

"But yer door was wide open and Charlie was trying to catch da cats as dey ran out da door. We caught 'em before dey got too far out in da hall. No idea what da hell dat bastard was t'inking but we couldn't let him keep it up. Did some damage control; shut da party down and kicked everyone out, must've been near t'irty people inside dat little space. Snatched da keys from him so he couldn't do it again. By da way, I saw somet'ing on da counter while we were cleaning up da place dat I wanted ta ask ya about." Murphy finished, as he grabbed one of my small blankets out of the hall closet holding it up as a peace offering.

"Do I even want to know what it is you're referring to?" With a glass of wine in hand, I planted myself on the middle cushion of the couch, sitting Indian-style as one of the cats jumped up to lay in the space that was created.

Murphy draped the blanket over my shoulders, bringing the edges in to wrap around my arms before going into the kitchen to retrieve the item he was questioning.

"What's 'Adam and Eve'? And why would dey be sending ya packages in da mail and is dis a paycheck?"

"Um…" I tried to bury my head inside the blanket as I heard the laughter erupt from the twins. Connor was fighting to get the blanket away from me so he could understand what I was muttering.

"Once more loud enough so we can hear ya."

"I'm a sex toy tester for them so they send me new products to test out before they hit the market and they pay me really well. It's something that I do to keep from going insane with all the papers that I have to write for school. It's what's paying for most of this first and second semester. Are you two clowns done laughing at my job and ready to tell me what the hell happened in here? So far the only thing I heard was Charlie throwing a party and you two caught him red-handed."

"Sorry, just never t'ought of ya in dat way before; I know we've done stuff but I never t'ought dat's how ya got most of da t'ings ya got tucked away in da closet." Connor was wiping a few stray tears that had fallen as he took a seat next to me on the couch.

"Is dat how ya got everyt'ing dat's in da night stand, too?" Murphy chimed in, plopping down on my other side, throwing his arm over my shoulders.

"Don't touch me, I'm still pissed at the both of you. Now finish what you started."

Retracting his arm, Murphy explained that after they shut the party down they took the divide and conquer route in an effort to get my place looking spotless again. Apparently, Charlie never did any of the things that I had asked him to do with regards to caring for the cats while I was gone. The party was in full swing Christmas night when the twins stumbled upon it and by the time they finally had gotten everyone one out to survey the damage they had discovered that both the food and water bowls were empty, the litter boxes were over-flowing, and I had developed quite a nasty gnat problem (guess that explains the six or seven fly strips hanging in my kitchen).

The first thing they had done was get the cats taken care of; from what Connor had to say, they did best two out of three on rock, paper, scissors to determine who did the dirty job of cleaning out two litter boxes while the other scrubbed and refilled the bowls. They had been stopping in daily in between their shifts at the plant carrying in my mail, playing with the cats, and making sure their bowls were never empty again. They had also been taking turns cleaning bits and pieces of the apartment, with the intention of saving the kitchen for last. If what they were telling me was true then I was mad the wrong people for the wrong reasons and I needed to apologize profusely to the both of them for stepping up to the plate. On the other hand, Murphy _did_ call me a cunt and Connor _did_ shove me down a small flight of icy steps.

This hiccup we found ourselves in would get resolved eventually but I needed to hear Charlie's side of the story before I could make a determination; maybe Aoife could offer some unbiased insight. I mean, she did think that I gave them the spare set of keys to both the apartment and the mailbox and their story did line up with hers when she mentioned seeing them coming and going in between their shifts at the plant.

I continued to listen to all of the horror stories that occurred in my absence before the nagging voice in my head reminded me that neither of them had apologized for the hurt they caused me earlier today. I really need to stop being such a hothead all the time and listen to reason rather than jump to conclusions.

"So, is there going to be an apology somewhere in all of this story telling or do I need to bite the bullet and say it first? That kitchen was spotless when I left and the garbage was empty. I come home to find an entire sink full of dirty dishes and the trash overflowing. You can't necessarily blame me for thinking it was you two considering the state of your own apartment, but a warning before I came inside would've been nice or better yet you could've just flat out ousted Charlie for being the asshole that he was…is…and then you could've watched me take it out on him."

"Aoife cursed us both; she said dat maybe ya needed da extra time ta clean up da mess we made while ya were gone. Neither of us bothered to correct her t'ough, she's been kind of like our second Ma since we've been in Boston. No amount of apologizing will take back da hurt or make da sting of da words I said any less painful."

"Dare I ask how Aoife cursed you?"

"Not really, but da long and short of it was dat she twice damned our souls ta Hell."

"And I shouldn't have pushed ya; it was childish and stupid. You're right sorry really has no meaning when we were da ones who took yer kindness for weakness. We did t'row it back in yer face and we don't deserve anymore chances."

"I will have to do some serious thinking on all of this. For the time being you two are off the hook; I will have to thank Aoife though for guilt-tripping the pair of you as well as for twice cursing you to Hell. If it's the one I'm thinking of, you're both lucky she said in this day and age rather than a few hundred years ago when it had a more significant meaning to it."

"How would you know about Irish curses? Ya got somet'ing yer not telling us?"

"There's a lot I'm not telling you. I studied Irish literature when I was an undergrad and a small chunk of what we studied was curses and their meanings. I was so fascinated by them that I wrote my entire final paper about them. I can't begin to tell you how fucked up Catholicism in Ireland was during that time. Now I _have_ to ask which one she used."

They looked at each other for a moment before Murphy took a deep breath and answered with " _Go n-ithe an cat thú is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat._ _"_ I let the words sink for a moment before the grin that started forming on my face started into a snicker

"Aoife really said that? I will have to go over there tomorrow and thank her for that. I think though after the shit you two pulled tonight, I would've rather seen your mom curse you both, but this'll work."

"And just which of da many curses do ya t'ink our dear Ma would've used on us? She's da nicest woman on da planet, she wouldn't go around cursing her own sweet, charming boys."

"Connor, if I were your mother, I'd either wish that you had the runs on your wedding night or the wench you marry blows wind like a stone from a sling. Look, I've got a lot of stuff to think about but I'll see you guys later, alright?"

I threw the blanket off my shoulders, got up from the couch, and walked them to the door, shutting it before either of them had the chance to say anything further on the matter. I really did need time to think about everything that happened today, but I also wanted time to wallow. The question that was really at the forefront of my mind was how they wound up outside my door; why the sudden change of heart to apologize for their actions. Usually after someone fucks up, in my books they don't ever get a second chance. With the twins, I was taking the risk of giving them just that, but when a second chance is handed it out it comes at the price of having your actions being constantly called into question. With the way today ended, I decided to put the question off for another time.

Going to sleep that night was no easy feat; I tossed and turned for hours in between the nightmares. I knew if my ex could see me now he'd be more than pissed. Not just at me for showing what he considered to be signs of weakness but also because I had been sleeping around with Connor and Murphy, confessing to both of them that they were both better than him. My ex strived for too long to be accepted by his father and once he started getting high off his own supply he just gave up. His father was a heartless man anyway, but he wanted to be recognized for at least something, no matter how small it was; I guess when I came along I gave him what it was he sought, even if he never told me what it was. If he ever found out that someone (or a pair of someones) could fuck me better than him, he'd kill them with no mercy…eventually.

* * *

He stood in the shadows outside on the fire escape watching as everything unfolded. He watched as she turned the lights out like he did most every night. He watched her tossing and turning, secretly wishing he could make it stop. He watched as her body came up off the bed as if it were demon possessed and the tears spill when she cried into the night. He watched her curl into herself and stare at her reflection in the glass; unknowingly looking right at him.

It was killing him on the inside having to keep his distance but he knew one day, hopefully sooner rather than later, that she would let him in and he could take away all the pain she ever felt. He promised himself that he'd never be like the person she was with before; he would be better than him and place her needs above his. He would give her anything she wanted no matter how silly, outrageous, or unattainable it may have sounded.

But he knew these were nothing more than dreams. Snubbing out the remainder of his cigarette on the railing, he quietly made his way back through the shadows to the place he called home.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

When he climbed back in through the window into their apartment, he saw his brother sprawled out across the bed lightly snoring and began thinking about how little time he was going to be spending with his brother as well as having to put their plans with Rocco on hold indefinitely. He volunteered to take on a couple of extra shifts when one of their co-workers on the second shift suddenly stopped showing up and called in "sick" for 9 days straight. He had now gone from working 12-14 hours a day to almost 24 hours non-stop; but they desperately needed the money, not only for rent and regular living expenses but they had been sending what they could back home to their Ma when they found out that the bank had been trying to foreclose on the parcel of land that had been in their family for nearly a century; she had let it slip when she called them on Christmas Eve drunk as shite. They had also amassed a large number of medical bills recently despite their best efforts to stay away from the hospitals outside of their regular fights whether it was in a bar, in the home, or on the street. The letters came every day; most were final notices and some had even started coming from the collection agencies.

"Ya go ta spy on her again?" his brother asked after being jarred from his sleep when the window slammed shut.

"Not spying on her. She was having nightmares and was crying again. Just wish she would let us in, ya know? Why won't she let someone in who only wants ta help her?"

"I want ta help her as much as you do, but if she doesn't know dat we're here offering it den how can ya expect her ta let us in? Ya heard what Aoife said earlier, she's been hurt a lot and doesn't trust anyone. We have ta gain her trust before we can offer ta help her get over whatever is causing her nightmares. Now fucking go ta sleep; ya have ta get up in a few hours ta start yer new shift at da plant. Don't forget ta stop by church on yer way for confession; after da dreams you've been having da past week or so, ya need to go."

"Go fuck yerself, ya stupid asshole. Ya need ta be making a trip ta da confessional yerself after ya woke me up t'ree nights ago with all dat ruckus ya were making. I don't know what was worse having ta listen ta ya go on for half an hour or seeing da look on yer lady friend's face when ya called out Red's name instead of hers."

"Dat was pretty bad, but not as bad as when ya called out Red's name while ya came inside yer ex two weeks ago. Fer yer sake, I hope Red never finds out about dat ot'erwise I t'ink she'll tear inta worse den Ma did dat time ya nearly gave da Father a heart attack when ya let loose a one-legged pigeon in his office." His brother laughed at him while turning over onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow; they were both wide awake and sleep was no longer a viable option.

"How da fuck did ya find out about dat? Ya were supposed ta be working, or did ya take off early again? I hope she never finds out either, I shudder at da t'ought of what she may do ta me; but ya have admit it was pretty funny watching Father Kerry run around his office trying to catch da damn t'ing. It didn't help any dat it was yer idea in da first place. Ya were too scared ta do it yerself so I took da initiative."

"Initiative my arse; ya only did it because ya got tired of dat Malone kid up da road teasing ya about being a chicken shite; if my memory serves me right, I t'ink his exact words were fer ya ta 'nut up or shut up;' didn't help any dat we were six and he was nearly twice our age. Boss man sent me home early after some fucking retard got his finger cut off inside one of da machines. We had ta shut da whole fucking place down for da rest of da day ta get da bastard's finger out and ta sanitize da entire place; also had ta t'row out everyt'ing dat was lined up on da belt. Bumped inta her a block or two away from here; she kept going on about somet'ing so when I asked her she said ya called out Red's name instead of hers. She was a bitch anyway, never understood what ya saw in her."

"Yer guess is as good as mine; can't tell ya how many times she called me up saying I needed to get meself checked. Guess it's what I get fer letting Roc set me up."

"It's what ya get fer not exercising patience; ya knew she was carrying somet'ing but ya couldn't leave well enough alone."

"If we're being honest, dat whore didn't become my ex until after she walked out dat last time."

"She fucking around behind yer back again? I'd been telling ya fer months dat she was no good fer ya but ya wouldn't fucking listen. What made ya change yer mind dis time and end it fer good?"

"I want somet'ing more den what I've been settling fer. I'm tired of her fucking games and I wanted out. Figured da best way was to get her back at her own game; she had been calling out every ot'er name under da sun but mine so I t'ought I'd turn da tables and call out Red's name instead of hers. Can't argue wit da results t'ough."

"No, ya got a point dere but if Red ever finds out dat she was da ot'er woman in yer fucked up game she's gonna kill ya and I'm not gonna stop her. Matter of fact, I t'ink I'll sit back and watch it all unfold."

The two stayed up until nearly 3:00 that morning when he told his brother he was going to check on her one last time before turning in; his alarm was set to go off at 4:30 and he still needed a quick shower before he headed to church that morning. He crept down the stairwell of the fire escape and watched as she threw the blankets back on the bed and made her way to the bathroom; shrinking back into the darkness when the light came on so to avoid casting a shadow. When she returned to bed a short time later and settled back into the covers, he offered up a short prayer hoping that for the next few hours she was able to sleep peacefully until her alarm broke the silence at 6:00, then he headed back upstairs. As much as he needed the sleep, he'd rather spend his waking hours near her even if she seemingly didn't want him there. Instead, he drifted off with a frown plastered on his face wanting the empty space in his bed to not feel so empty.

His alarm went off at exactly 4:30 and he knew that for the next couple of weeks, until they either hired someone new or they were able to switch a few people around, that he was going to be working 4 days straight with little to no sleep and 3 days off to catch-up on all of it that he lost. At least their boss was willing to work with him on which days he worked and which days he took off, but he liked working the first shift with his brother. Not only did the day go by quicker but they enjoyed teasing the shit out of Rosie when she was working.

Shutting the alarm off, he laid on his back staring up at the ceiling mulling over his thoughts. He took comfort in the fact that in the little time he was going to be at home that he wouldn't be going to bed hungry. He never mentioned to her the work schedule he agreed to take on but he knew she wouldn't turn him away if he came knocking stating there was no food in their apartment. It would not have been a complete lie, they had been sitting in McGinty's one night shortly after she got back from her two week vacation and he confessed in a drunken haze that they only ever ate out whether it be pizza, diner food, or whatever Doc had on the menu when they showed up. He wasn't sure if she was just being nice or if she genuinely meant it when she told them that if they ever wanted a free, home-cooked meal that she always made enough for two or three meals since it was just her. They were given an open invitation for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if they ever got tired of spending money. He laughed quietly to himself as he replayed in his head that moment when she told him that if they took her up on her offer that she'd fatten them up, "you're too skinny!" she had exclaimed, poking her finger into his stomach. He was just thankful that since their blow out a week ago that she had learned the truth about what Charlie had done to her place in her absence and as a sign of gratitude (more of an apology if one asked for his opinion) she had made them a pot of Guinness beef stew and soda bread. He agreed with his brother that their Ma did make it better but it wasn't half bad considering she had never made it before.

He climbed out of bed, tossing back the blanket and padded his way over to the toilet. Despite it already being the third week of January with a few feet of snow on the ground and the loft's furnace being broken, he slept naked. Not only did it make the morning routine easier to get through, but he also sweated quite a bit in his sleep so any cold air that the loft offered was a blessing even if it meant shrinkage when he woke up.

Once the toilet was flushed he trudged over to the shower and shuddered a little knowing that the water was going to be ice cold; it was going to be one of those mornings where he had to let it run for a good 10 minutes before it started warming up. Turning the faucets to the appropriate settings, he walked over to his bed to find his robe. When he was able to locate the hidden garment, he pulled it on along with his boots, grabbed a cigarette from the pack that was on the kitchen counter and made his way outside onto the fire escape. On mornings like this when he had to wait for the water to get hot, he'd go out for a cigarette and use the time to just think about everything and nothing at the same time. It wasn't even 5 o'clock in the morning yet and it seemed that an eerie feeling had crept in along with the layer of fog that stretched forth over the blackened streets of Boston. He shook the feeling and stared off into the horizon as he allowed his thoughts to consume him.

Lately though his thoughts have been of Red and everything that he did to her during their time together. Out of all of the women he had ever been with, Red was the only one who had ever let him do whatever it was that he wanted no matter how new of an experience it was for him. Sure, previous women he slept with had let him do a few things to them, but with Red it was different. She let him go as rough or as gentle as he wanted; however fast or slow he needed. She let him use her however he needed to, manipulate her so he could achieve any angle he wanted or reach those deeply hidden spots he had only ever heard of through previous conquests. She let him try out different positions that all of the others had told him 'no' on. He closed his eyes for a moment, bringing the cigarette to his lips and saw her staring back at him with her mouth wrapped around his cock. He tossed his cigarette over the railing and climbed back inside. The water would be at least warm enough now that he could get cleaned up and maybe have a little bit of privacy before he had to be out the door.

Tossing his robe over the railing, he drew the shower curtain after making sure his brother was still sleeping. Normally he'd only do this sort of thing while his brother was gone and he was free to make all the noise he wanted but since he didn't have the patience to wait until he was off work on Friday he would have to bite his lip and hope for the best.

The dream that he'd been having in the short amount of time that he was able to sleep left him painfully hard. Closing his eyes, he took a hold of himself and tried to recapture the moment, or as much of it as his memory would allow.

 _She had put him on his back again for what seemed like the umpteenth time; they both liked to have a certain amount of control over the other, but he figured this time he'd let her have it all even if he lasted all of five minutes. Her hair was down and she used it as a shield over their faces every chance she got, he liked the fact that it created a bit of intimacy where there was none. He laced his fingers through the tangled mess that he created and brought her face closer to his; he wanted to taste her lips again, feel the hot breath against his skin, feel the goosebumps that rose on her arms when his chest hairs would lightly scratch against her breasts. Even though it was just sex, he loved how she responded to him; the sounds she would produce when he would hit the right spot over and over again, the way she would arch her back or contour her body to fit the angle he was trying to create, the way she would scratch and claw at him to bring him closer to her, the way her face would change and her breathing would hitch when she came, the way she would call or scream his name out. He loved knowing that all the pleasure she was feeling was because of him and not some toy she had._

 _There were times she had him groaning under her when she would pull back in order to allow for deeper penetration and the only contact she would allow would be her small hands pinning his arms above his head. She knew he was stronger and could change the way things were playing out in a matter of seconds, but he was too intrigued by her movements to think about taking back the dominate role. When she was satisfied that he wasn't going to move his arms, she slid her hands down, lightly raking her nails over the flesh that covered his ribs. He remembered closing his eyes and felt her fingers break contact with his sides and found her touch again on his thighs, just above his knees. He opened his eyes, lifting his head a little bit to find her with her back arched, breasts pushed out, and her head titled back with the ends of her hair lightly brushing against his legs._

 _He watched the way she would roll her hips and grind herself against him; he wanted nothing more than to help her reach the ending that she was searching for. But he knew that she enjoyed slowly torturing herself like this, she told him that a few hours earlier when he offered to get her off the last time she had been on top of him._

 _He felt her breathing change and her movements were slowing down; sensing that something was out of the ordinary, he tentatively brought his arms up and placed his hands on her thighs._

" _I didn't say you could touch…"_

" _I'll take my punishment later; ya were slowing down."_

" _With everything you've done to me, I don't think I can finish. Think you can lend a hand or two?"_

 _Before he had a chance to answer, she sat upright and picked his hands up off her thighs. She placed one on her breast and the other she moved towards her center._

" _Say it." He wanted to hear what it was that she wanted him to do. In their short amount of time together, he learned that she was not shy about saying what it was she wanted from him._

" _Touch me; make me come." She turned his hand and placed it palm-side up until his thumb came to rest over her clit._

 _He felt her tense up the second his thumb came into contact with her clit; he directed his eyes to her face and watched her bare her teeth, hearing the hiss escape from her lips. She leaned forward bringing her hands to his chest and tangled her fingers in his chest hair, giving it a slight tug as the combination of his thrusts and the pressure he was putting on her clit brought her closer to the edge of release. Knowing what she needed he increased the tempo of his thrusting as well as the pressure on her clit._

He was brought out of his memories as the sound of her screaming his name out echoed in his head. He leaned forward, placing his forehead against the cool shower tiles and braced his forearm just above his head, letting the last of the hot water run over the back of his neck. He was waiting for it to turn cold just before getting out.

When he was finally able to calm down enough to shut the water off, he grabbed his robe from the curtain rod and glanced up at the clock that hung in the kitchen next to the fridge. He muttered a quick "fuck" under his breath and scrambled to find some clothes that smelled cleaner than the ones he wore the previous day. He should've been out the door by 5:30 and it was now almost 6:00; he had less than 30 minutes to get to work on time and the walk down to the T took almost 10. Stuck between a rock and hard place, he shoved his feet into his boots and made his way to the front door, closing it quietly behind him. He would have to try to remember to go to confession later on in the day after he got off from work as he placed his rosary around his neck, tucking it inside his shirt for safe keeping.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

He knew she would be up at exactly 6:00 this morning and he knew she had a car that would get him to work with 5 minutes to spare if he were lucky. He opted to take the stairs down to the third floor in the hopes to shave off a couple of minutes. He waited nervously at the door after knocking and hearing what sounded like someone falling out of bed followed by a slew of curses come from the other side.

"I swear to God, someone better be dead or dying and if they're not I'm kicking your fucking ass into next year."

The threat and her tone alone were enough to make him re-think his plan, but when she opened the door to reveal a white tank top, a pair of dark grey yoga pants, and her hair still down in the tangled mess that he remembered from his dream, he knew he made the right decision. Seeing her like this first thing in the morning had him fully aware that he was getting hard again and he needed to think of something to keep the feeling at bay.

"I'm sorry ta bug ya dis early in da morning, but I need a ride ta work."

"What's wrong with your usual mode of transportation? Break a leg over the weekend after another bar fight with your brother and the boys at McGinty's?" she yawned, rubbing some of the sleep from her eyes.

"Me feet work just fine, but I have ta be dere in less den a half hour and I took a little longer den usual ta get ready dis morning. T'ought dat since maybe ya had a car and if I offered ta pay fer da gas, ya could drop me off."

She sighed, running her hand through her hair, "you're lucky I have off work today and I forgot to turn my alarm off. Let me throw something on and grab my shoes." He watched her yawn again, attempting to cover her mouth with the back of one hand and fumble for the keys that hung on the hook by the door with the other; she told him what it was she drove so he could at least go out there and get it warmed up before closing the door in his face. Staring at the door for a few seconds, he started second-guessing on whether or not he should call in sick just for the hell of it as his dreams from the previous night started taking up residence in his head once more. With a deep sigh and a slump in his shoulders, he made the decision to go into work knowing the need for a paycheck was greater than the need of having to take care of himself once again; with that in mind he turned back towards the stairwell and made his way down to the ground level and out of the building with her keys jangling inside one of the pockets in his pea coat. He located her car with ease in the parking garage and climbed inside, placing the key in the ignition. It took a couple of tries before he finally got it to turn over and he hoped that it wouldn't cut out or die on their way to the plant. After waiting a couple of minutes, he turned the dials for the defrosters and cut the heat on. The clock inside her car showed that he had 20 minutes before he had to be clocked in and on the factory floor.

While he was waiting for the car to warm up, he turned around in the front seat to take a look in the back to see if she had anything he could use to cover up with. Usually he would stuff his hands inside his pockets when it was this cold out but sitting inside a cold car surrounded by cold metal and cold glass while waiting for the heat to kick in made him wish he had a pair of gloves. After digging around in the backseats for a bit, he managed to find a small, thin blanket laying on the floor. Considering that the heat had been on for almost five minutes and wasn't even close to starting to warm the car up, he figured it would have to do. Settling back into the front passenger seat with the blanket wrapped around him, his eyes were again drawn to the clock as the minutes and seconds ticked down to 6:30. His boss was pretty laid back and would be forgiving if he came in a few minutes late but he didn't like being late for work no matter what the circumstances were.

His attention was drawn from the clock when she opened the driver side door and reached into the back seat for the snow brush; even though nothing had fallen the night before, the wind blew more snow onto her back window. He watched her move around the car rather quickly from the side mirror kind of feeling like a jerk for not having thought to do that for her while he was waiting. In hindsight, had he done that then maybe he might not have felt so cold upon getting in the car, possibly feeling a difference in temperature when he clamored back inside.

"When do you have to be there?" she asked when she returned to the car, reaching behind her for her seatbelt. He watched her in one swift, fluid motion throw the brush into the back with her right hand then got the heater working properly. "Sorry, I should've mentioned that this car can be just as fickle as the faucets when it comes to working right. You have it to turn it all the way up, then kick the defrosters on; it takes about five minutes for the heat to start circulating as opposed to the way you had it. We would still be sitting here another 10 minutes if I left it like that."

"6:30; I know a few shortcuts t'ough dat'll cut down on time so ya don't get stuck at every red light on da way. I'll keep dat in mind for next time. Take a left when ya pull out of da garage and go down about t'ree blocks before ya make a right."

Thanks to his directions and her lead foot, she got him to the plant with about 5 minutes to spare. There were times she couldn't help but to laugh at him when she would glance over at him hanging on to the "oh shit" bar when she would speed through the lights as they were changing from yellow to red. He had never known her to laugh in the morning so when the sound rang out, hitting his ears he tried to relax a little bit hoping that she was having a bit of a good time at his expense. As she sat in the turn lane waiting for traffic going in the opposite direction to clear, he stole a glance at her watching as the rays of the early morning sun reflected off the glass cause what little bit of color he could see in her eyes to grow into a brighter shade. He sat nervously in the passenger seat, feeling his heart race inside his chest. This was not the first time he had asked a woman to take him to work when he was running late; usually it was their fault in the first place but this time around the tables were turned. Why was this so difficult for him? As the car went into motion once again, he figured that today would be as good a day as any. He had told his brother earlier while they were talking that he wanted something more and he was going to take his chances.

As she went to pull the car into an empty space close to the entrance, he decided to tell her instead to stop in the fire lane and let him out there. She did as was instructed and put the car into park. She had turned her head to ask him something, but before she had a chance too he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, bringing her closer to him. Even though she made it clear that there was nothing going on between them, he had to know what her lips tasted like this early in the morning. He had never had the urge or temptation to kiss anyone who had dropped him off at work before; it was always just the routine of getting out of the car, slamming the door shut, and walking off. He didn't even offer them a 'good-bye' or 'see ya later.'

"You need to head inside." She murmured against his lips when they finally broke contact.

Her hand was still wrapped around his wrist as she lowered her head, keeping her eyes cast down towards the floor as he reached behind him for the door handle with his free hand and got out, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible; he didn't want her to see how deeply she affected him. He had half expected her to react that way but he was not expecting it when he shut the door and watched as she pulled out of the parking lot, squealing her tires on the pavement heading towards home. The voices of his co-workers cheering him on had not gone unnoticed by him; he was seemingly having a good morning: he got to see her in the rawest way he's ever seen, he managed to make her laugh, and finally he was taking his own words to heart. Cheers from his friends and co-workers were just an added boost to his ego.

"Hey, fuck face, get your Irish ass in here; we got work to do." Rosie's voice this early in the morning was never a good thing. His seemingly good morning has now turned into a shitty one.

* * *

"Hey sis, it's me…um…give me a call back when you get this; I need some advice and you're just about the only person I can think of who can possibly offer anything good. Um…I guess I'll talk to you later, bye."

I hung up the phone after listening to it ring for about the 10th time. Even though my sister was still on winter break from school, she was either sleeping in or she was getting the kitchen prepped at work for when it opened at 10:00. Sometimes being in different time zones made it difficult for me to remember that she was an hour behind and I was an hour ahead.

Calling Charlie and Ryan were out of the question: they would grill me non-stop for hours on end and then head upstairs to their apartment and start in on his brother, trying desperately to get him to fess up to anything that he may have been holding back. Besides that, I was still pissed at Charlie for taking advantage of my place being empty and neglecting my cats. I could talk to Aoife, but I don't want to drag her into this messed up situation that I find myself in. Her advice would be sound, no doubt, but Aoife loves to gossip and stick her nose where it sometimes doesn't belong. His brother and the boys at McGinty's were also out of the question; they don't want or need to hear about my doubts and insecurities. Knowing them, they'd tease me endlessly, without mercy just to watch me squirm and turn different shades of pink and red with embarrassment. I did not need embarrassment compiled on top of confusion.

I had only met their friend Rocco a couple of times and the first time was at the bar when he was already three sheets to the wind. When I found out that he was working for the Italian mafia, I learned to keep my mouth shut just in case something came up that may find its way back to his boss. Besides, he had enough problems of his own between his job and his drugged up girlfriend; I just don't get why he doesn't do better for himself. I had asked him that before and he told me that it was easier to get in than it was to get out. Be that as it may, if he couldn't get out of his current employment situation, he could at least get rid of that druggie bitch. The few occasions I had seen the two of them out together she was doing nothing but nagging Rocco about petty shit. Naturally, Rocco got teased about being too pussy-whipped to leave her but after all the commotion died down and she left in search of her latest drug of choice he had pulled me aside and told me the real reason why he stayed with her. I understood where he was coming from, but still, the fact remained that he could do better.

The only viable option left was my sister. She was two years younger than me, but she has been with her current boyfriend for just a little over six years. She understands what my insecurities and apprehensions are when it comes to affairs of the heart and I knew I could count on her to give an unbiased opinion. Sure, I had mentioned their names when we met up at our hometown bar over Christmas and I did go into some pretty great detail that left a few jaws hanging. I believe my cousin's exact words were that she wanted a videotape the next time any of that happened again. But the only thing they knew about them was that they were twins, they both smoked, they dressed alike, and were very well endowed; they didn't know what the boys looked like mainly because I didn't have any pictures of them. The only thing I could offer was that they were Irish with blue eyes; Murphy had dark hair and Connor's was lighter. It's not like they are identical, so it's pretty easy to tell the two apart.

It was 10:30 when my phone went off; looking at the screen I was relieved to see my sister's name pop up. 'Here goes nothing.' I thought to myself, answering the call and lifting the phone to my ear.

"So, what's up? You didn't sound quite like yourself when you left that message at 6:00 this morning. Did you forget about the time difference again in between switching time zones on your way back?" She tried joking, but she could never get the punchline or the timing right.

"Yeah, I did forget about the time difference, but I figured you'd get the message either way. So, do you remember when we all went to Gettemeier's after Christmas and I told ya'll about Connor and Murphy? Well one of them, not going to say which one it was, asked me to take him to work this morning and when I dropped him off, rather than just getting out of the car and going on his merry way like I assumed he would, he um…God this is embarrassing, I'm turning redder than my hair, he um…kissed me. But it wasn't one of those quick pecks on the cheek, it was one of those full-on lip-lock ones where you get grabbed by the neck and pulled in." I continued rambling on about what happened and by the time I finished there was nothing but silence on the other end.

"Are you still there?"

The silence was filled by laughter and I could hear my sister trying to fight back the tears as she started snorting. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh at you but do you hear yourself? You sound like you're back in high school all over again. Look, if he wants you I say go for it; you've got nothing to lose and everything to gain. You deserve to be happy for a change and if this is your second chance at happiness then stop holding back. You are capable of giving a lot of love to those you think are worthy of it; but you are too fucking guarded. You think with your brain way too much rather than listening to what it is that your heart wants. I didn't want to say anything at the time, but when you were telling us about your romp in the sheets with them, you genuinely seemed happy for the first time in a long time. We all saw it and we were all hoping that you would've done something about it by now. I'm not going to ask you which one it is that's got you acting like this, but I hope you let him in. From what you've told me about both of them, they are the complete opposite of what you had before and they seem to respect the fact that not only are you fiercely independent, but you're not going to put with their bullshit. Look, I've got to get ready for work, I have to open and close the restaurant tonight but if you want me too, I will fly up there to Boston for a couple of days and help you get to where you need to be. That is, if you want this thing between you two to happen. The ball is in your court; your next move determines everything."

With that, my sister hung up the phone and all I could hear was dead air on my end. My sister was right about several things: I did sound like I was in high school again, I do deserve to be happy, and I over-think everything. Fuck! Why did feelings have to complicate everything? His brother and I had a great time the other night while he was working third shift at the plant, no strings attached and now this shit happens. Why couldn't he leave well enough alone and just let things between us remain purely sexual? I was happy and more than satisfied that what we had was nothing but sex but now I just don't know. I had been in this situation before and the last time I had allowed things to progress to this point, it left me more than scared. The amount of anxiety I was feeling at the moment had my hands shaking and I knew the stuttering would start next if I didn't do something to take my mind off him.

I had already done the cleaning and the laundry was in the washer; the only thing I could rely on were my books, but I wasn't about to start reading school books while I was still on winter break. The semester was scheduled to start tomorrow morning on the 19th and today was a federal holiday; given that fact along with taking a vacation day tomorrow, I didn't have to be back at work until Wednesday. I made my way to the bedroom and pulled open the doors to the bookcase; you can never have too many books, but I was in desperate need of a second bookcase as about half of my collection consisted of textbooks I had bought for previous classes, both as both a grad and an undergrad. I'm a lifelong reader, what can I say? For it being only four shelves though, I was already stacking the books three rows deep on each shelf and the overflow was still sitting in at least 6 boxes from when I moved in.

Today felt like a day for some non-fictional reading and today also felt like an Upton Sinclair kind of day. Picking out my copy of _The Jungle_ , I shut the doors to the bookcase and grabbed the tan colored chenille throw off my bed, then made my way to the living room to curl up on the couch between a pair of kitties that had finally fallen asleep after waking me up at around 4:30 this morning when they started sliding through the piles of paper that I kept on the floor for them. I had rather them destroy papers I didn't need any more as opposed to destroying my furniture. In between playing referee for the cats, my alarm going off at 6:00 a.m. and him knocking on my door shortly thereafter, I was hoping that some light reading would be enough to help ease me back into sleep for a few hours.

Just as my head started dipping down at the start of the third chapter, I was brought back to full consciousness when a series of quick, almost panicked knocks came sounding at my door. I shouted for whoever it was to wait just a minute as I grabbed the bookmark off of the new marble tabletop to mark my page. The knocking continued until it started becoming more urgent and more forceful. I had barely gotten the door opened to see a frantic twin come bursting in.

"There's been an accident."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

These were the only words his brother spoke before he rushed inside and started throwing my shoes, sweater, and keys at me. I stood at my front door stunned as the words sank in but was snapped out of my trance when he grabbed me by the shoulders, shaking me almost violently. Rather than grabbing my entire purse, I just took my license out of my wallet along with my debit card and my credit card. The words had not fully sunk in, yet my feet were bouncing off the stairs as we all but ran out to where my car had been parked.

I had never seen someone care so deeply about their sibling, but I guess had I gotten that kind of phone call about my sister, I'd be at the airport getting on the next flight back home. The streets were not as busy as they were earlier this morning and we got to the plant just as an ambulance started driving off. I threw the car into park and shut it off once I saw a second ambulance lined up behind the first. He jumped out and ran over to where everyone was gathered, trying to gain as much information as he could. I sat there in the driver' seat waiting for him to come back with something, anything but I could only replay this morning's events hoping that this wasn't going to be the last time I saw him. I was brought out of my depressing thoughts as the door alarm sounded; panic had taken up residence in his eyes and the fear in his voice was evident.

"They're taking him to Boston Medical Center; boss said he has some sort of trauma. The EMT said they have to medevac him there, whatever that means. Red, I can't lose my brother."

"Get in the car, we'll meet them there. They are taking him by ambulance to the nearest hospital and they are going to transfer him to BMC by helicopter. They would only do that if the trauma was severe enough that it's a matter of life or death. I don't mean to sound harsh or direct but there's no point in lying. The EMT's are going to do everything they can to get him stabilized during transport. We won't know anything of his condition or the extent of what happened until we get there. Try not to dwell on it too much; just tell me this, do you two have the same blood type?"

"Why does that fucking matter!? My brother could be dying and I may not be there for him and all you can ask me is do we have same fucking blood type?" He had just slammed my door shut a little more than was necessary before I restarted the car and put it into drive, reminding him to put his seatbelt on.

"It matters because if you're the same blood type and he needs a blood transfusion in order to save his life then you could be the one to do that for him. Look, I get that you're more than upset right now, but you have to be the strong one. All I'm saying is that no matter how bleak the outcome looks keep your faith that everything will get better. I don't believe in God or any higher power like you do; but I do believe that there are events that happen that cannot be explained by science. I believe that everything happens for a reason and I believe that your brother will make it through this with a new lease on life."

Twenty minutes of silence passed between us, the only thing that could be heard was the song that was currently playing on the radio and his foot frantically tapping on the floorboard of the car. The tension that rose off his body told me that he wanted to do something. If I had to hazard a guess, it'd be that he would want to wrap his hands around the throat of the person or people who did this to his brother. Rather than trying to break the tension, I kept my eyes on the road. If he wanted to break the sounds of silence, I would let him; I would just have to remind myself that any anger he held was not directed at me, that I would have to try and keep a civil tongue until this all passed. Just as we came up on the exit for the hospital, he released a deep sigh, ducked his head down, and plunged his hands in his hair; if I didn't know any better, I'd swear he was trying to rip it all out in an attempt to alleviate some of his frustrations.

"How can ya sit dere and be so calm? Don't ya care about what happens ta him?"

It felt like I was being stabbed in the heart by the words that dripped with venom. "Of course I care about what happens to him, how could you think that I don't? I'm a fucking nervous wreck right now, but since I'm the one driving I can't very well pull over on the side of the road to have a breakdown like you are. One of us has to appear as calm as possible and unfortunately, that torch has been passed down to me. When we get there, you can stand outside and scream to the heavens about how unfair all of this is, but in the end it'll do no good. Believe me when I say that I've gone through this before and I know how you feel; the only difference is that I had no one with me when I got the news and no one was with me when I had to be the one to identify the body. You on the other hand have me to lean on and you have my shoulder to cry on should you need too. No one is going to judge you for shedding tears and no one is going to think twice about seeing a man in pain."

It was another 15 minutes before we pulled into the parking lot of the emergency department; just as we were walking through the front entrance, the sound of a helicopter coming in had us holding our collective breaths. If that was his chopper landing then they must've been on stand-by when the ambulance dropped him off.

"Just breathe." I told him, taking a hold of his hand and giving it a slight squeeze. He squeezed mine in return then dropped his to his side. We walked into the emergency room and waited by the patient check-in for the nurse to return. If his brother wasn't there yet, at least we would be here waiting for him when he did arrive.

"Can I help you?" I was brought out of my thoughts at the sound of the nurse's voice and glanced over to my left to see if he could formulate some type of response without letting his anger get the best of him. He was bent over the desk and had his face buried in the crooks of his arms, trying to pull his hair out again.

"His brother was supposed to have been medevac'd here from another hospital. He was working at one of the meat packing plants and was involved in some sort of accident. Can you tell us if he's here yet or what the ETA for him is? The name is MacManus if that helps any."

The nurse didn't respond but simply rushed back to the trauma center. She emerged a short time later with a pair of doctors covered in blood, latex gloves, and surgical masks. Their appearance left me more than a little uneasy and there was nothing I could do to make the lines of reality blur just a little bit to take the edge off what his brother must be feeling.

"Please, come with us. We have quite a bit to talk about. You can bring her with you for moral support if you want."

His brother grabbed a hold of my hand and all but dragged me as we followed the doctors back to a small conference room and were told to wait inside for just a few minutes to allow them to get cleaned up. There was a small coffee pot sitting on a warmer about half full and a stack of styrofoam cups along with Ronnoco brand containers of creamer and sugar. I sat rigid in my seat focusing on the individual letters stamped on the creamer, listening to the second hand tick away on the clock that sat a few feet away, just out of my line of vision. A blast of cold air rushed into the room as the air conditioning kicked on making me wish I had something warmer on other than the thin, green cowl neck sweater I was wearing over the same tank top I woke up in earlier this morning when I took his brother to work.

One of the doctors re-entered the room a short time later looking much better in a clean pair of scrubs that were free of any traces of blood. "Your brother suffered a severe brain injury while he was at work today along with some pretty bad bruising and swelling. The story we were told by the EMT's was that he may have been either teasing another co-worker or was playing some sort of prank on them. Apparently this particular co-worker didn't find him as funny as everyone else. She supposedly picked up a piece of metal and hit your brother in the back of the head with it. You'll have to talk with the police when they get here, but my understanding is that he went back to doing his work after a minute or two of this teasing and this person had hit him while his back was turned. That being said, he has a contusion to the back of the brain. He is currently getting an MRI done to see what the extent of the damage is. We need to know how you want us to proceed if he starts to go downhill."

He looked at me with pleading eyes, silently asking what it is he should do. I cannot be the one to make that hard of a decision, but I could offer my opinion; neither of which would have sounded right coming out. "Can we wait to see what the MRI shows before you ask him to make a choice?"

The doctor flipped open the chart once more, apparently reading a few more notes. Shutting it again, he looked between us and nodded. He left shortly thereafter and closed the door behind him, taking his loaded question of 'what if' with him. I turned around in my chair to face his brother and saw the tears beginning to make their trek down his face. My sister was right when she said I was capable of giving a lot of love to those who deserved it; and right now he needed it. The hard plastic chair was doing nothing for my posture so when I stood up to stretch my back out a little, I saw him pick his head up and thought I heard him quietly whisper for me not to leave him alone; I couldn't do that to him even if I tried. Rather than saying anything, I took a step towards him, wrapping my arms around his neck, and pulled his face towards my middle. I held him for a little bit like that before he wrapped his arms around my waist and all at once I began feeling his shoulders shake uncontrollably against my arms. The sound of his cries nearly had me doing the same, but I fought to keep in check although I'm sure he could feel my body trembling under his when my tears would threaten to fall.

At some point we had ended up sitting on the floor, I had my back against the nearest wall to prop myself up on and my legs stretched out. He had shed his pea coat off, balled it up, and was using that as a make-shift pillow on my lap; his back was to me and he had somehow managed to curl himself up into a semi-fetal position as I felt the tears soak through his coat onto my jeans. I played with his hair and rubbed his back until his sobs started to die down and he could form clear words again without so much as a hiccup in his speech. He released a deep sigh before picking his head up off my lap and looked at me with glassy eyes. Out of reflex, I brought a hand up to cradle his cheek and wiped a stray tear from his eye. He offered a sad half-smile, though there was no heart or light behind it. His mouth was cracked opened slightly as if he was trying to say something, but before he could the doctor had returned, this time holding a stack of charts and images.

"Well, I have good news and I have bad news; which do you want first? By the way, I don't think I introduced myself before; I'm Dr. Nguyen. I am the resident neurological doctor on staff here and was called down by Dr. Bryce for a second opinion. Dr. Bryce is one of the on-call emergency doctors just in case the emergency department fills up quicker than we can get them better."

"I guess give me da bad news first. It can only get better from dere, right?" He had gotten up off the floor when the doctor came in, then helped me to my feet before taking a seat at the table across from the doctor. One hand was resting on the table; the other held a death grip on my left.

"Your brother's MRI shows that the force of the strike was enough to not only cause bleeding on the brain, but that he also has some pretty severe swelling around his brain as well," the doctor had paused his train of thought, producing one of the many images he brought in showing us exactly where the most extensive injuries were, the fluid surrounding his brain, and a multitude of other things I could not process at the moment, "for the time being, we have cut a hole into the skull and have inserted a tube to help drain some of the blood and other fluids that are building up around the brain. He is going to have to remain in the ICU at least until he wakes up; the length of his stay depends on how quickly he's able to recover. Considering the fact that he is still pretty young, I'm feeling optimistic. The good news however, is that because he was brought here quickly we were able to go in and surgically stop the bleeding. With brain bleeds its touch and go to see if they will stop on their own or if surgical intervention is needed. In your brother's case we had to do surgery because a piece of the metal became lodged into the back of his skull. In all honesty, it probably saved his life. Had anyone tried taking it out, he may have bled to death. If you want to wait upstairs on the 4th floor, we're going to be bringing him up there in a little bit; that is our ICU ward. I will warn you that with brain injuries, especially traumatic ones such as this, the person may end up losing their memory as well as experience troubles with speech and mobility depending on which parts of the brain were affected. That's not to say that he will never recover, but keep in mind that he may not be the same again."

The doctor left without another word and we walked out of the conference room in silence, stumbling towards the elevators that would take us up to the 4th floor. If I didn't know any better, I could've sworn it was fate or some unseen force at work because the orderlies were shouting down the hall at us to hold the elevator for them as they wheeled a patient in a gurney towards the open doors. One of them was holding an IV bag and the other was holding a tube to keep it from dragging on the floor. When the orderlies reached the elevators, we let them on first and followed; it was then that I got a good look at who they were wheeling down the hall. It hurt to see him lying on a hospital bed with tubes and machines all over the place, but they finally had each other after such a rough morning. The elevator stopped on the 4th floor and we followed the orderlies to the room that he was being assigned too; the dry erase board already had the staff's names over it and what numbers we should call for the different departments such as dietary and physical therapy (as if either of us would be able to eat anything after today).

"If ya want ta go home, you can. I'm not gonna leave him by himself; he's been by himself fer too long today anyway, he can never seem ta keep himself out of trouble." He said, pulling up a chair next to his brother's bed and bowing his head as he pulled his rosary from under his shirt.

Before I could answer, another orderly appeared in the doorway holding a clear plastic bag in his hands. I saw that it contained the pea coat that he wore this morning as well as his other personal affects. Taking the bag from him, I nodded my thanks and started going through it in search of an item I knew he would want when he woke up. His brother looked at me confused and angry that I was going through his brother's stuff, but when I pulled the matching rosary from the bottom of the bag and handed it to him he seemed to understand where I was going with my line of thinking.

"I'm not going anywhere, at least not until he wakes up and you're not carrying this burden on your shoulders anymore. Believe it or not, I actually care about what happens to the both of you." I took a seat on the other side of the bed after dropping the bag at my feet and picked his hand up. It was ice cold to the touch and I felt bad for not bringing a pair of gloves with me; instead of dwelling on it, I picked the bag up off the floor and dug his pea coat out, standing to lay it over his chest and arms. His face was pretty bruised and he looked almost unrecognizable with parts of his head shaved off from where the doctors had to open him up.

A small smile appeared on my face and grew until I started laughing. His brother looked up at me with raised eyebrows, curious to know what it was I found funny about this situation.

"He's going to be pissed when he wakes up and sees the haircut they gave him. It looks like a reversed receding hairline. Sorry, I needed to laugh to keep from crying. I know you're probably in no mood to even consider eating or drinking anything right now, but do you want me to see if there's anything in vending machines or cafeteria to tide you over for a little bit? One of you here is terrifying enough, I don't want to see you lying in a bed next to him because you were neglecting yourself by not eating. Trust me, if you don't eat on your own I can guarantee that one of two things will happen: I will either force-feed you or I'll tell the doctors to put in a feeding tube."

I watched him lean over in the chair he currently occupied and pull a few crumpled up bills from his front right pocket. He counted some out before stretching across the bed to hand them to me before taking up his rosary again, silently saying his prayers as the beads moved between his fingers.

"I'm not da least bit hungry at da moment, but I might be as the day wears on. T'ink you could go downstairs and see if dey have anyt'ing, I guess light? Been feeling pretty sick since I got da call dis morning. Get yerself somet'ing too if ya want."

The feeling was mutual, but I knew what he meant. I got up from my chair on the opposite side of the bed, leaning over the bed rails to plant a gentle kiss on his brother's forehead. I then walked around to the other side of the bed and gave him a one-arm, side hug as well as a kiss on the top of his head; in hindsight it might've made more sense to do things in the opposite order so I could make my exit but doing it this way just felt right. I didn't want it to seem like I was favoring one over the other because in all honesty they both needed someone to take care of them and it was something that I did not mind doing. No doubt about it this definitely puts our relationship into a whole new perspective but all relationships are bound to have their turning points whether it's by design or circumstance.

I left the two of them alone, closing the door behind me and made my way to the nurse's station to find out where the cafeteria was. I was directed to take the elevator down to the ground level then to take a series of lefts and rights; it looks like I'm about to go on an adventure through the hospital in search of sustenance. Some people call it getting lost, but I call it an adventure. In my opinion it's all about the final destination, not about how you get there.

I ended up finding the cafeteria with very few problems thanks to a doctor, I think she was an OB, who was on her way there after having just delivered a pair of twin girls in the maternity ward. She told me both babies were healthy, they each had ten fingers and ten toes, and mom was doing just fine; she even told me that the poor mother had chosen not get an epidural and delivered both babies naturally. I could not imagine the kind of pain that woman must be in; I would've passed out after that. As we rounded the corner to the door that led to the cafeteria, the doctor had asked me what brought me to the hospital; in not so much detail I told her that a friend was in a work-related accident and that I was here with his twin for moral support.

We had parted ways after I grabbed a small thing of crackers for him and a blueberry muffin for myself. In a situation like this, water would not be a very good drink option so I grabbed us both a cup of hot tea. The cashier was nice enough to give me a drink caddy and a small bag for the food. As I made my way back towards the elevators to head up to the 4th floor, I had a bit of a dawning realization: any time I was around them, I could be myself. I could temporarily bring my walls down and not be ashamed of the person I am or the past that I am still trying to hide from. These two had managed to dig deep enough through the concrete layers of my heart that now that they were actively making slow, steady progress it felt like a weight had been lifted; like I was finally able to start living again. Tragedies do bring people closer together, I just hope that whatever this is can continue to grow instead of stalemating.

Once the doors of the elevator opened up to the 4th floor, I stepped out and made my way back to the room. The door was still shut, just as I had left it but out of courtesy (and habit) I knocked anyway. I didn't want to interrupt anything by just barging in whether it was something a doctor was saying or his prayers. Cautiously, I opened the door to find the room seemingly empty but the door to the bathroom was closed over. Walking past, I set the items on the tray that sat at the end of the bed and put the change next to his crackers. He wasn't going to like it when he found out I paid for my things with my debit card, but what's done is done.

The toilet flushed a minute or two later and the faucets turned on then off again. He emerged from the bathroom looking pretty worn out, like he had been crying again. He grabbed his cup of tea out the caddy and took a seat in the chair he had previously occupied.

"You didn't get anyt'ing while you were down dere?"

"I did, but I paid for mine separate. You said to get you something 'light' so I figured that you can't really get much lighter than crackers. Also thought that you could use something hot to warm you up a bit; it's better than water since you'd probably end up getting sicker."

He nodded his head numbly, taking a sip out of his cup and stared off into space. The silence between us remained as the heart monitor sounded out a slow, steady rhythm. I couldn't help but cringe at the sound of the wrapper containing his crackers coming undone but at least he was eating something; it was better than seeing him eat nothing. There was a fiery storm brewing behind his eyes when I caught a glimpse of them but rather than spout off a torrent of curses he simply spoke two words. It was enough to catch me off guard, but I simply accepted them.

"Thank you."

 _Author's Note: Hello my lovely readers and Happy Labor Day weekend to you all! I thought I would get this to you all day early since although, my streak of cliffhangers must continue. As Valerie E. Mackin has pointed out on more than occasion, I_ am _a thing of evil and I very much enjoy being a fucking evil woman as Connor would say. In the mean time, feel free to drop a line or two letting me know what you think and please go check out Valerie E. Mackin's BDS stories. They are fantastic works of reading art and not something to miss out on. Next chapter may go up later this week or next._


	21. Chapter 21

_Author's Note: First of all, shout-out to Valerie E. Mackin for reading through this, your feedback behind the scenes really helped to extend this chapter even further. Second, I'm so freaking proud of this chapter in particular that I've decided to post it a couple of days early. Third, this is the longest chapter I've written to date so I apologize in advance if it seems more than a little lengthy. Finally, if you have not done so already, go check out Valerie E. Mackin's magnificent literary works of art, just don't read them before bedtime ;) As always, comments & reviews welcome, PM me with any suggestions you may have._

 **Chapter 21**

Today was Saturday and he still had not woken up yet. Dr. Nguyen said that with such extensive injuries it was just his body's way of healing itself and he would wake up when he was ready. He told us that if it was any consolation at least he was breathing on his own; I supposed it was nice to know that but it just served to piss his brother off even more. I hated having to leave his brother Wednesday morning, but I had to work and I just hated being in hospitals anyway; they creeped me out too much after watching my mom recover from her brain tumor when I was five. I had told Charlie what happened and he followed me up on Wednesday night with the traditional 'get well soon' flowers. Why do people bring flowers to someone who isn't even awake to see them? For me it was just a sad reminder that he was stuck here for an undetermined amount of time and for his brother they just made him bitter. He had his faith to fall back on, but as each day passes by he just gets angrier at the world.

Their boss, co-workers, Doc, Rocco, and some of the other guys at McGinty's came by for some brief visits. They all took their respective turns offering their condolences to his brother but his anger didn't really boil up to the surface until last night when their boss came up after work saying something about how "Rosie's been put on a leave of absence until further notice." Granted he was prone to have his outbursts while he waited on pins and needles for his brother to wake up, but even I would not have been that stupid to mention the name of the person who did this until after the fact he was already in the bar with more than a few drinks in him.

Rocco and Doc came up here every night, usually arriving about twenty minutes after I did. Neither of them would stay for very long, just long enough to see how we were all doing, if either of us needed anything from home and if the doctor had any sort of good news in light of what had happened. I saw the relief wash over their faces when the doctor came in Wednesday night around 9:00 to tell us that the swelling on his brain had subsided but was going to wait until Thursday morning to see what the MRI showed; his was the first on the schedule so if everything looked okay the doctor would talk with a few colleagues about having the drainage tube removed.

It was something to look forward to after I took into consideration the fact that shortly after leaving the hospital Monday night to go home, I couldn't even make it five minutes down the road before the head nurse was calling me to tell me to come, get his brother and take him home with me. After turning the car around and going back to the hospital, I found him backed up in one corner of the room trying to fend off hospital security and a nurse telling him visiting hours were over.

"Everybody out, just get the fuck out and let me talk to him," once everyone had left the room and the door was shut I dropped my things on the floor and went about trying to talk him down off of the ledge he was perched on. "You cannot act like a maniac in here, do you understand me? You and I both know that's a fast pass to give them license not to let you back in here. Fucking calm down and sit your ass down in the chair; say your prayers, call your mom, do something but you will not act like a caged animal as long as he is lying in that bed. I told you earlier today that you have to be the strong one and that means you have to keep your shit together. If you're going to act like that, you can either go outside and scream your head off or you can take my car and go home. Make your choice."

"I'm not fucking going anywhere until he wakes up." He plopped back down in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. The anger seethed unfiltered as his eyes darted around the room, seemingly trying to find an object to focus on that was not a piece of medical equipment.

"You know what? You're coming home with me, right now. I am not in any mood to be putting up with your shit tonight. Whether you like it or not, you have to work in the morning and if you don't come with me on your own free-will I will have security strap you down to a gurney and wheel you out to my car. If you don't want to sleep, fine I'll drop you off at the bar and you can drown yourself in alcohol."

"I'm not fucking going anywhere until he wakes up." He repeated, but at least he had finally uncrossed his arms. "I don't want him to wake up to an empty room and not know where he is, what's going on, or where any familiar face is. Boss told me not to come back until after he woke up."

Scrubbing my hands over my face in a vain effort to wake up a little bit I offered to stay the night with him to set his mind at ease. "The room will not be empty, I'll be a familiar face, and if he starts asking questions I can answer them for you. Just get the hell out of here and go home. You can come back at the ass crack of dawn as long as you promise to keep a level head."

We fought like this just about every night around the same time; it took nearly an hour for me each night to convince him to just take my car and go home; he hadn't left his brother's side much except to use the bathroom or when I told him to go home. We would take it in shifts, he would stay for the bulk of the day and I would come up after work so he could get a few hours' worth of restless sleep. Anything he ate or drank was what I brought him from either the cafeteria or leftovers that I made from the night before. He made me promise over and over again to call him if anything happened, even if it was for something as small as a muscle twitching.

The window of his room looked out onto the parking lot, so I had a perfect view of where my car was parked; now it was just a matter of playing the waiting game for him to take the car and leave. I watched as his figure made its way out to the parking lot and to my car; the headlights came on and my little car disappeared into the night. Turning away from the window, I made my way back over to the bed and sat on the edge watching the heart monitor sound out the rhythmic beating of his heart. The drainage tube had been removed Thursday afternoon after his MRI scan showed no further fluid build-up but he was still pretty bruised up and he looked ridiculous with his head half shaved.

The doctors and nurses all made their rounds about 20 minutes later; they had come to know his brother and I pretty well in the short amount of time that he's been here in the ICU. They knew one of us was going to stay with him all day and all night no matter what their visiting hours policy was, I was just grateful that it was me they allowed to stay the night rather than his brother after the blow out that happened on Tuesday night. Maybe it was because I was able to kick his brother out at night or maybe it was because a couple of them mistook the ring on my hand for being a wedding band and assumed that we were married; I never bothered to correct them because then they probably would have kicked me out and his brother never would've left.

When the last of the nursing staff made her rounds, I quietly closed the door behind her in the vain hope of getting a little bit of peace and quiet from the codes that were loudly announced throughout the night. I retreated back to the bed but rather than sitting in the chair or sitting on the edge again, I climbed in and laid down next to him. As stupid as it may seem, I needed to hear his heart beating against his chest for myself rather than rely on a machine to tell me he's still alive and breathing. The sound alone was enough to relax my shot nerves enough that I was able to close my eyes for a little bit.

I'm not sure how long I was out for or remember falling asleep for that matter, but when I woke up I could feel something brushing lightly against the side of my arm and hear the steady rhythm of the heart monitor begin to increase. Lifting my head while trying to be mindful of the leads and wires that poked out all over the place was a difficult task to accomplish at 2:00 in the morning, but when I was finally able too I saw a pair of hooded blue eyes staring at me. I gave him a small smile and reached for the bed controls hidden somewhere in the thin covers pressing the button for the nurses' station.

"Everything okay, ma'am?" the nurse asked upon knocking and entering the room.

"He's awake. Could you call his brother, please and get the doctor?"

The nurse gave a slightly enthusiastic nod and left the room, closing the door behind her. I put my head back on his chest, listening to his heartbeat grow stronger; neither of us saying anything to the other. I wanted to tell him something along the lines of 'welcome back to the land of the living,' but at this point I wasn't sure what the extent of his injuries would be now that he was awake. The doctor's words about the injury possibly causing problems with his speech left me unsure of whether or not he'd be able to say anything back to me. The nurse came back a couple of minutes later saying that his brother wanted to talk to me and also that the doctor was on his way along with a speech therapist and a physical therapist. I had no idea a therapist of any kind would be on call at this hour of the morning, but I guess all hospitals operate differently.

The short walk to the nurses' station was filled with doubt. Had I done the right thing by asking them to call his brother at this hour of the morning? Was my mind playing tricks on me and I just imagined the whole thing about him being awake? Sighing to myself, I picked the receiver up from the desk and brought it to my ear, answering with a rather shaky 'hello.'

"Is he really awake? Did he say anyt'ing to ya at all? Is he wondering where I am?"

"Yeah, he's awake so you need to get your ass up here to come and see him. He hasn't said a word to me or anyone; I honestly couldn't tell you how long he's been awake for. I'm sure he's wondering where you are; at least I would be if I were him. I've got to go, the doctor's on his way and you need to hurry up. Just promise me that you won't wreck my car on the mad dash here."

When I returned to the room, I found the doctor and the therapists standing around his bed asking him question after question; they ranged from do you know your name to can you say your name and constantly asking him to move different parts of his body. I know they were just trying to do their respective jobs, but just watching this unfold was overwhelming. He caught my eye and I could see the panic start to set in just as the doctor was watching his heartrate rise on the monitor, telling him to calm down.

"His brother is on his way up, can these questions wait until he gets here? I mean the poor man just woke up and I think he'd rather see his brother first before he starts showing off his fancy set of dance moves for us and breaks into a medley of show tunes."

The trio agreed to return in an hour saying that should be plenty of time for his brother to get to the hospital and see a much more familiar face rather than that of a stranger's. I closed the door behind them and sat down in the chair next to the bed, glancing over as he struggled to get himself into an upright position that was more comfortable than the way he was laying now. I pressed the button on the side of the bed to bring it all the way down so he could push himself up towards the top then proceeded to raise it back up when he nodded.

We sat in an uncomfortable silence until his brother came bursting through the door looking no worse for wear than when he left. I had to warn him to be careful of the wires before he grabbed his brother in a bear hug of sorts, nearly squeezing the life out of him.

"Do you remember anyt'ing dat happened?"

"Just remember giving Rosie shit like we usually do, having da craic at her expense, den da next t'ing I know its lights out. What da fuck happened?"

"Dat fat, angry lesbian thumped you a good one; took a swing at da back of yer head with a piece of metal while yer back was turned. Doc said da only t'ing dat might've saved yer life was part of it broke off in yer skull; kept ya from bleeding to death."

"Guess dat explains why me head fucking hurts. How long was I out fer?"

"Nearly a week," I answered, "they had to cut a hole in the back of your head and insert a drainage tube. I don't want to get into all of this right now but 'the fat, angry lesbian' as you put it damn near killed you so I sincerely hope this serves as a wake-up call for the both of you to not test the patience of someone who already doesn't like you."

"I was just trying ta have a bit of fun, lighten da mood up a bit. It may have been a Monday, but dat doesn't mean ya have ta act like it's a Monday. What all happened while I was out? I could hear voices, but I couldn't put names and faces to 'em."

"I think we should let the doctor best answer that when he comes back. I will tell you though that this one was nothing short of a blubbering mess in between getting completely shit-faced at the bar. If you are going to give him shit about crying, wait until you're out of the hospital and the doctors say you're well enough to go back to work. I'm going to see if they have anything decent to drink in the vending machines, do either of you want anything while I'm up?"

"Anyt'ing but water, I'd rather have food if ya don't mind."

I nodded my head, got up from my chair, and left the room closing the door behind me. The vending machines were at the other end of the hall, but I decided to take my time on my way there. I needed some time to process everything. I was thrilled that he was finally awake, but I don't think he fully understands the gravity of the situation. This fat, angry bitch damn near killed him and he's acting like it's just another day at the office. Maybe that was just his coping mechanism but I wish he could see what all happened through the eyes of everyone else, maybe even had an out of body experience. His brother really did try to be strong for the both them however he just couldn't do it whether it was because his anger had finally got the best of him or there was some other reason that he didn't want to have to justify to anyone else.

I had called their mom Monday night when I was finally able to leave the room long enough to find a pay phone to let her know what happened and to get some advice on what I should or could do. I had gotten her number from their boss since she was listed as their emergency contact, though I'm not sure what all she could do from an ocean away. The best that she could offer me was to just be there for the both of them and kick their sorry asses when they needed it; I think she was too shell-shocked to say much of anything else though she did ask that I try to call her every couple of days and let her know how they were both doing. The boys had told me that she was quite the lush and she had sounded quite drunk when I called her. She sobered up pretty quick after I told her what happened. She had even gone so far as to say that she would get on the next plane here to beat the perpetrator with her own bare hands. Note to self: never stand in the way of anger, Irish mama bear protecting her cubs (no matter how old they are).

She did tell me though that their uncle was a priest and she would let him know as well what all was happening; said that despite the distance they would make sure to say enough prayers for the boys to last for a while and offered to say one for me as well. Despite my attempted protests that it wasn't necessary she told me that even though the two of them liked to cause trouble for those around them that the women they brought into their lives were few and far between, besides her, they only had a few scarce cousins and a couple of aunts. That they both needed a strong, stable woman in their lives to remind them that it was okay for them to hurt and it was okay for them to feel pain no matter how much they had tried to cover it up. Before we hung up, she had asked again that I keep her updated on his progress as much as I could, "da phone bill is gonna be outrageous dis month but it'll be worth it to know me boys are alive and as well as can be."

I stood at the vending machines contemplating what to get even though there was really nothing in there that appealed to me, I just had to get out that room and let those two have some time to themselves, besides I don't think it'd be too early to call their mom and let her know that her precious babe was alive and talking. Granted it's, like, 7:00 in the morning in Ireland right now but considering the circumstances, I don't think she'd mind the phone ringing at this hour on a Sunday morning. Maybe she'd be able to lighten the depressing mood I've found myself in because these two were just making it worse with their nonchalant attitudes. She had been telling me one story after another about their childhood to help keep my mind from dwelling on the present situation. Inserting the crisp dollar bill into the cash slot, I slapped the button labeled as Minute Maid apple juice waiting for it drop into the slot at the bottom of the machine before repeating the action twice more.

As I stopped outside the door I could hear them talking in hushed tones, muttering in German about something. I waited a few more seconds before rapping the backs of my knuckles against the door. Hearing them both call out "come in," I grasped the handle to the door, shuffling the three bottle of juice around in my arms before entering and shutting the door behind me. Glancing up, everything seemed to still be as it was when I left, however the atmosphere seemed to have shifted though in which direction I couldn't be sure. It was best to leave well enough alone and let them tell me what was going on if they needed an ear to bend. I sat back in my respective chair by the bed and waited in silence for the doctors to return, occasionally nodding off when the room would grow quiet enough.

The doctor and therapists all returned exactly one hour later as they had promised and asked him if was ready to start singing and dancing for all of us. His brother looked at us confused before I told him that I'd explain it to him later. The physical therapist spent about 15 minutes testing out his reflexes and seeing what he could and could not move. His brother and I were more than relieved just to see him at least wiggling his fingers and toes; he was promised that if he could move his ankles that they may try to get him out of bed in the morning to get the blood flowing again to minimize the risk of clots forming in his legs that could break off and travel to his lungs; while he was out they had been pushing blood thinners every so often to do the same thing.

The speech therapist got absolutely nowhere with him; she wasn't sure if it was because he didn't feel like talking or if the brain injury had caused him to lose his speech all together. The three of us knew though that it was just a ruse and he didn't feel like talking. Even though he was a pretty social butterfly, he wasn't much of one when it came to situations like this. The times that I had gone with them to the hospital after a night out drinking, he hadn't spoken much unless it was to either Michael or Sandra and even then it was still like pulling teething trying to get him to say why he was there.

This one night I had met up with them at McGinty's on payday, some jock douchebag had tried hitting on me. I was already on my third Long Island tea by the time he came in and was feeling pretty bold; add to that I was in an Irish bar surrounded by Irishmen and Rocco, I was feeling pretty confident with myself. Apparently he didn't think I was too funny when I started checking his man card, as Rocco had put it. When I had stumbled off my bar stool to head to the bathroom, he tried to swing on me from behind. He who had defended my honor that night ended up with a fat lip, black eye, and a partially fractured wrist. I had to be the one to tell the doctors and police at the hospital exactly what happened that night because he suddenly decided to take a vow of silence until we left. When I asked him why he didn't say anything, he told me that he doesn't like to talk to people he didn't really know; said that something just seemed off them and decided to let my drunk ass do all the talking.

The doctor that he was assigned to cleared him to move out of the ICU and into a regular room where he could make some better progress and get out much quicker. My best guess would be that they wanted to free up the room for someone else who needed it and since they figured he was awake and moving on his own then he didn't need to be in there anymore. The doctor wanted to move him up to the seventh floor, the head injury ward, so that they could monitor his progress. I guess it made sense to do that, but I was very apprehensive about the move. It just seemed so sudden that they would make such a hasty decision after he's only been awake for maybe the past two hours, tops. Why not give it a couple of days before moving him out just to make sure nothing happened, that he didn't have something rupture and slipped back into the coma?

"Before I do go and sign off on getting you out of the ICU, just answer me this question: when the speech therapist was asking you what your name was, did you not feel like answering or can you really not speak?"

"Pardon my language doc, but da bastard can talk just fine. He was talking da whole time we were in here by ourselves before y'all showed up. He just doesn't like ta talk when he's being hounded with a million questions coming at him from different directions all at one time."

"Well then if that's the case, and since it's just three other people in the room with you, would you mind telling me what your name is? If you can answer me that question then I will sign these papers right now and get you moved out in the morning."

He clutched the rosary that had remained in his hand for nearly a week and took a deep breath before speaking. I must admit it was good to hear his voice again but I wasn't sure if he was going to give an honest answer or continue to say nothing until after the doctor left.

"Murphy."

"Well Murphy, I'm Dr. Nguyen. It's nice to finally be able to put a voice to the face. I have to tell you though that while you were in a coma, your brother and your…err…friend here never really left your bedside. One of them was with you around the clock, you're very lucky to have people like them around, we have some patients that never have visitors let alone family members stay with them for as long as these two did. I think you were the only patient here who had someone visiting them every day. I know you probably don't want to hear this, but get some rest while you still can. Your physical therapist is going to start getting you out of this bed tomorrow and you're going to need all the strength you can muster. I'll be checking in on you daily to make sure you're progressing the way you should be. Press the call button if you need anything and I will see you later after your therapy sessions."

With that, the doctor left the room, quietly closing the door behind him as the tension that was hanging over all of our heads dissipated. Today was going to be another rough day but at least now I can rest somewhat more easily knowing that he was awake, aware, and functioning. As I was packing my things away to head for home and call their mom, Connor had a light hold on my arm whispering in my ear that Murphy wanted a minute or two alone with me. The door opened and shut behind him as I turned and made my way back to the bed.

Murphy patted a bare spot on the mattress next to his hip, silently asking for me to take a seat next to him. As I went to sit down, I found his hands on my shoulders directing me backwards. Soon I found myself laying down with my head on his chest, much like I was when I was gently brought out my sleep when he woke up. I was being lulled back into sleep while his fingertips were gently running up and down my arm once again. The quiet tones of his voice brought me out of a near-sleep state.

"Connor told me about how he'd come up here in da mornings and find ya sleeping next ta me like dis. Means a lot to know dat you care about da both of us enough ta not only make sure I'm breathing on me own, but also making sure dat Connor didn't starve himself worrying over me. Even t'ough I couldn't say or do anyt'ing while I was out, I could still hear ya both talking and arguing. Heard ya telling him he couldn't act like a maniac, dat he needed ta be strong fer da both of us. Heard ya after he'd leave asking me ta please wake up; I heard everyt'ing and God knows dat I tried ta wake up but I just couldn't. Even t'ough Connor put dis in me hand, I could hear ya rooting around in da bag fer it; we're not da kind of people ta shove our religion down da throats of others but we are grateful dat ya had da wherewithal to t'ink about it. Heard ya telling Connor dat ya don't believe in God or any kind of higher power and I'm okay with dat. You had enough respect fer us and our beliefs to set aside yer own disbeliefs to t'ink about what was important to us.

"I already talked with Connor while you were gone, but what happened while I was out? He told me about what da doctors said, but he couldn't or wouldn't tell me about how da two of ya held up."

The long and short of it was that neither of us did too well. While I was at work or school, my phone never stopped ringing. If it wasn't the hospital asking me to talk Connor down off the ledge it was Rocco calling me from McGinty's asking the same thing. Drunk or sober, Connor was a mess. It had gotten to the point one night, I think Thursday, that I actually had to lay my hand across his face. It seemed like the thing to do at the time, but looking back I wish I had done it sooner.

I on the other hand, held up about as well as a house of cards in gale force winds. Aside from keeping Connor from completely losing his shit, all of their friends decided to unload themselves onto me as well. I may as well have gone about setting up a booth inside the room with a sign that says the doctor was in; instead of charging a nickel for each "session" it'd be closer to $10.00 an hour. In all honesty, I never had the chance to release any type of emotion whether it'd be tears from fear or exhaustion; anger towards the person that caused this chain of events to unfold. I was an emotional wreck and I was so busy taking care of everyone else that knew Murphy that I had no time to comprehend for myself what had happened.

I had reminded Murphy that this was just the long and short of it all; maybe as he progressed with his rehab either Connor or myself would be more willing to disclose everything but this was as far as I was willing to go for the time being.

"Thank you fer staying with us dis past week, I don't t'ink either of us would've been able ta keep it together fer very long without ya."

I nodded my head against his chest letting his words sink in. Once I was sure that I could no longer stand the silence, I lifted my head up and pressed a kiss to his right cheek and climbed out of the bed. I told him that I was going home for the night and that I'd be back after I made my rounds letting Doc, Rocco, and the rest of the boys know what was going on. I purposely left out that I was going to call their mom to let her know what was going on as well. As I left the room, Connor stood outside the door. I felt my hand stretch out without even thinking about the action, reaching out and latching onto his arm, giving it a small squeeze before turning down the hall to leave. Neither of us said a word to the other as I was leaving but there was a mutual understanding between the two of us. We both understood that the tides had changed and things between the three of us were never going to be the same; there was no going back. The point of no return.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Murphy stayed in the hospital for a grand total of 5 weeks and I swear, I have never seen one man fidget as much as he did. The morning that he was moved out of the ICU and into a regular room on the head injury floor he wanted to hop out of bed and walk up there himself, "dey're taking too long," were his exact words. Trying to remind an Irishman that patience was a virtue was like trying to tell a kid no.

During those five weeks both the physical therapist and the speech therapist were in his room twice a day. His first day in the head injury ward, as the physical therapist came in to try and get him out of the bed, the aides brought in a walker complete with tennis balls over the feet. Connor and Rocco both genuinely laughed for the first time in a week though Murphy failed to see the humor.

"It's just for balance, you've been immobile for a week and they just don't want you falling over on jelly legs." I offered after the laughter had died down.

"You would know all about having jelly legs, wouldn't ya Red?" Murphy had a death grip on either side of the walker with his head cast down as he tried to steady himself.

"Only when you or your brother were the ones causing it. Besides, this is just a temporary thing until you can get in and out of the bed on your own."

"It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have dis fucking line coming out from under me gown. Where does dis t'ing lead to exactly?"

Another round of howling laughs ensued from the pair of hyenas and I did my best to keep my poker face; I was failing miserably at that one.

"That's the line to your catheter."

"Da line to me what?"

"Your catheter; haven't you wondered why you haven't pissed the bed yet?"

A slew of curses escaped Murphy's mouth in a variety of languages as Connor and Rocco continued their laughs at his expense. The sounds were enough of a concern that his nurse came in to see what all of the commotion was about. When I explained to her about him finding out about the catheter, she put a hand to her mouth to try and stifle her own laughs.

"Mr. MacManus," the nurse had started trying to regain her composure, "if you will just calm down I can explain. It is only temporary until you have 100% of your balance back. The doctor has deemed you to be a fall hazard so we cannot let you out of the bed unassisted. This includes trips to the bathroom."

"You'll have ta piss in a bag till dey tell ya you can take a piss on yer own." Connor concluded, falling out of his chair and landing in a pile on the floor as his laughs started all over again.

Thanks to his physical therapist he was back on his feet, unassisted, in no time flat and the catheter came out a couple of days later much to Murphy's relief. The second it came out, the first thing he did was lock himself in the bathroom for a good half hour and took a much needed shower. He had refused to let the nurses even give him a sponge bath insisting that he'd rather stink or do it himself although he did ask me to give him a hand. Who knows what would've happened had I done that, but I had a feeling that his next request would be to see me dressed up in one of those skimpy nurse outfits you see street walkers wearing on Halloween.

His speech therapist grated on his nerves worse than anything. He was just trying to do his job, but Murphy was more insulted than anything when the flashcards came out and he was asked to say the words printed on the card. Just to fuck with his therapist though, he'd say whatever was printed in any other language except English. He would declare that he was not an invalid and his speech was just fine. On more than one occasion, the speech therapist would ask me to step outside for a word.

"What'd he have ta say dis time? Do I qualify for da spelling bee?"

"He wants you to stop being such a smart ass all the time and take this seriously," I was interrupted by a snort of some kind before pressing on, "just pacify him by doing this. If you can behave and do what you're told I'll bring you up some books or something this weekend in whatever language you want. I know reading isn't exactly your favorite thing in the world but it's either that, sit in front of the idiot box, or walk up and down the halls."

"Yer not staying dis weekend? Got anot'er hot date or somet'ing ya don't want me knowing about?" he teased though his tone of voice fell somewhere in between annoyed and irritated.

"Got a shit ton of homework I've got to get done for next week and a week's worth of meals to prep. Why do I have to be the one getting stuck with being told that you need to focus? Do they really think we're married and I'm somehow supposed to magically tell you to follow doctor's orders regardless of whether I'm present or not?"

"Dey must t'ink dat ot'erwise you wouldn't be getting pulled out inta halls every night. Since you've got stuff ta do dis weekend, I guess if ya could bring a couple of books dat would be fine. Could I maybe borrow some of yer books to read?"

"As long as you use the designated bookmark and not fold my pages over or put any type of mark in them that doesn't belong. You're buying me a brand new copy straight off the store shelves if you do. Any special requests? How many do you want me to bring up?"

"Got any classics? T'ree or four should do, depending on how long dey are."

"I pretty much only read classic literature; I was reading _The Jungle_ by Upton Sinclair the day you had your accident. How about I bring up a few of my favorites and if you don't like them you can have Connor bring them back with him?"

"Sounds good, I'll see ya tomorrow after ya get off work."

The following day I brought in _Dracula_ , _Don Quixote_ , and _Phantom of the Opera_. I reminded him before I left that night not to forget about using the bookmarks as well as if he didn't like any of them to just have Connor drop them off. That weekend, despite receiving numerous distracting text messages from both twins, I managed to get all of my homework finished and even pulled ahead on a few assignments to turn in early. I even got all my meal prep done for the whole seven days before Connor had called me asking why his brother was attempting to sing Broadway. I could hear him in the background screeching out a nearly unrecognizable tune.

"He asked me to bring a few books in this weekend, I told him I'd bring him a couple of my favorites and if he didn't like them to have you bring them back. I take it that he's picked up _Phantom of the Opera_ , huh? It technically falls under the same genre as _Dracula_ , that's why I brought it up there. If I really wanted to fuck with him I would've brought him _Huckleberry Finn_."

"Yer fucking with him by bringing him love stories ta read. How would _Huckleberry Finn_ really be fucking with him?"

"It's not written in proper English for one, and two you literally have to shut your brain off to get through it. We both know that Murphy is incapable of shutting his brain off for even a fraction of a second, so what makes you think he could it for a few hundred pages?"

"As long as Ma doesn't find out dat her child is willingly reading dat book I t'ink we should be okay. She tried ta get us to read it when we were about 16 or 17, never could get past da first few pages without getting bored."

After working with the therapists for five weeks straight, Murphy was more than ready to come home and was just as anxious to get back to work regardless of whether or not the doctor gave him medical clearance. Thankfully though, the doctor cleared him to work in half-day shifts until he came back for a follow-up visit in three months. Knowing Murphy, I knew he wouldn't listen to medical advice and would go through with working all of those extra shifts that he took on. This bit of news wasn't brought to my attention until after I had been interviewed by a detective about my involvement in this whole fucked up situation and Connor and I had poured ourselves into McGinty's afterwards. Needless to say, I wasn't too thrilled to find out he volunteered to work himself to death. Extra money is always nice to have but it should not be at the expense of working virtually non-stop.

"Where's Connor? I t'ought he'd be here ta see me break free of dis prison."

"Trust me, he wanted to be here to see that but he had to work a double and I figured it would be a good surprise for him to see you at home for a change rather than being pursued by a nurse with a wheelchair while you're shouting at them that they'll never take you alive. I'm sorry, but I have no idea how you two managed to not put your poor mom in the nut house. By the way, you do realize that you have been wearing your hospital gown backwards the entire time right? The opening is supposed to be in the back, not the front."

The ear to ear grin he flashed was all the response he offered. Several times I had come up here after work to see nothing but The Flash running down the halls shouting at the nursing staff. Almost every time he did it half of the nursing staff wore goofy grins and told me what a lucky woman I must be to have someone like him. I took the compliment for what it was with a grain of salt, saying nothing of my strictly sexual relationship with him. I really couldn't blame them though for staring; if I was being honest with myself, I was doing more than my fair share of staring during those times he did that and wore an equally goofy grin.

The nurse that wheeled him out of the hospital helped me to get him in the car and gave me a couple of at home care sheets that his therapists and the doctor wanted him to follow (like that would ever happen). "Your husband has been the most difficult patient I have ever dealt with in the 25 years that I have been working at this hospital. I don't know how you do it, but you deserve a medal."

"I'm not married and he's not my husband, he's not my fiancé or boyfriend. He's just my neighbor and neighbors help each other when they need it." I told her, slamming the passenger door a little harder than was probably required.

The nurse said nothing further; she simply retreated back to the sanctity of the hospital, pushing the empty wheelchair in front of her. Sighing, I pushed the loose strands of hair back from my face and made my way back to the driver's side and climbed in. I could feel Murphy watching me as I gripped the steering wheel and dropped my head; I needed a moment to gather myself before I could get us safely back home. I knew people in general would mistakenly think that I was married because of the fact that I wore a ring on my left ring finger, but today was the first time anyone had ever called me out on it and I was more than a little perturbed by it.

"It was bound ta happen eventually. If I had known dat months ago I wouldn't have felt so guilty about going ta confession on Sundays telling da Father dat I had gone around sleeping with a married woman. I don't t'ink Connor would've felt so guilty either. Ya probably would've had more people lined up outside da bar dat night ya stumbled in wearing dat black dress we love so much after anot'er dat blind date gone bad."

I lifted my head up and rolled my shoulders back then twisted around for the seatbelt. "I'm sure Charlie has told you that I just wear it as a defense mechanism; I don't mean to drive people away but if you could walk a mile in my shoes then you would understand why I wear it. I'm not asking you to understand my defense system, especially since you're just now finally out of the hospital; I am asking you however to just accept me as I am. My past is filled with nothing but hurt and anger. I came here to try and get away from the things that still haunt me and I am trying to surround myself with better people. Work and school serve as distractions to keep me from going back to old habits; my cats are the only living thing besides my family that make me even a little bit happy. I took to Charlie pretty easily since we share a common interest. I can't believe that I'm telling you this, but Ryan is my psychiatrist; I was the one who introduced them when Ryan talked me into going out to dinner and he told me to bring someone who was capable of making me smile and laugh. It was just supposed to be a social experiment so he could see for himself that I was being truthful about wanting to do better for myself."

I knew my words were a lot for him to take in so rather than just sit in a quiet car for 30-45 minutes I turned the radio on and flipped between stations when they were actually playing songs that I liked. Singing came as naturally to me as breathing so when one station in particular started playing songs back to back, I couldn't help but to start singing along. I felt his eyes on me the entire time Pat Benatar's _Shadows of the Night_ was playing; it was one of my favorites and it was completely true of how I needed to start living. I couldn't keep hiding away all the pain that my past has caused me. Today was the day that I was actually going to start listening to Ryan. I had to start letting people in and I was going to start by slowly letting Connor and Murphy in. On the other hand though, this course of action could completely backfire. Overthinking was going to be the hardest issue to face any way I looked at this and my brain could not stop playing the endless movie reel of things that may go bad. As a Bon Jovi song started up next, I turned the volume up to try and drown out my thoughts. Why did it have to be _Runaway_ that started playing? Turning the volume down a notch, I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel as we sat in stop and go traffic. Construction work, of course.

As I rounded the corner passing McGinty's, Murphy argued with me the entire time when I offered to drop him off at the front of our building that way he didn't have to walk from the parking garage. I finally gave up when he started turning red in the face as his temper started working its way to the surface. The physical therapist told him that moving around more and more each day was good for him, but didn't want him to over-do it by tackling inclines and multi-story buildings. I generally parked my car on the third or fourth level depending on how much energy I had left in me at the end of the day to drag my tired ass into the elevator, granted that it hadn't broken down again. On the nights it had and I had to take the stairs, I dreaded even having to think about taking each step one at a time.

Once I had finally gotten him up the stairs of the building and into the elevator, we rode it up to the fifth floor (at least it was working for the time being). I had only been in their place a few times and it looked like a tornado went through it the last time I was there. Murphy still complained about getting dizzy spells the higher up he got in elevation so I had offered to stay with him at least until his brother got home. Really the only thing Connor had to do was give him a hand up if it seemed like he was having trouble standing and keeping his balance. The furniture in their place wasn't anywhere near as comfortable as what I had, but who am I to judge them based on what they owned? Given that they were minimalists, the only place to really sit was a broken down sofa that definitely looked like it had seen better days; Murphy took the rosary from around his neck and hung it up on one of the two nails next to the door and took a seat, kicking his boots off. He patted the cushion next to him, silently giving me permission to have a seat.

"If Connor's working a double today, den he probably won't be back until after 10:00 tonight and even den he'll probably go down ta McGinty's and drown himself in a vat beer which means we have da entire night ta ourselves. If yer gonna start being more honest with yerself and start letting better people inta your life den I guess I can start being more honest with ya."

"Murphy, you're starting to scare me just a little bit."

"Ain't got not'ing ta be scared about. Just t'ought I'd give ya somet'ing else ta t'ink about and go over with Ryan da next time ya see him; dat was not a jab at you by da way. Sometimes ya just need an outside opinion ta help ya process everyt'ing." He paused for a moment, hunching over so his elbows rested on his knees. Taking a deep breath he continued his previous train of thought, "I t'ink about ya more often den I probably should and even more so den I care ta admit. Dat day dat I was running late fer work and asked ya ta give me a ride; da day dat I got dis bump on me head, I had been dreaming of ya da night before; dreaming about everyt'ing ya did ta me dat day-"

"Murphy, I need you to be flat out honest with me right now. What do you mean you had been dreaming about me?" Panic started to set in as the sound of my heart beating in my ears started to pick up its pace.

"I don't want whatever dis t'ing is between us ta be just about sex anymore; I want more den dat. I know dat ya've been hurt a lot and ya have trust issues with men especially, but I want a chance ta show ya dat I'm not like da others. I want ta help ya be da better person dat I know ya can be. Since dat night ya got stabbed, I've been sneaking down da fire escape and watching ya; I've watched ya toss and turn in yer sleep because of yer nightmares, wishing I could make it stop. I've watched ya practically t'row yerself off da bed when ya wake up crying hoping to be da one lying next ta ya ta bring ya back down ta earth and dry yer tears. I told ya a few months ago dat ya have one of two good men standing right in front of ya and asked how much more convincing ya needed. Is dis convincing enough for ya? I want ta be da one ya come ta when ya hurt; I want ya ta know dat yer safe as long as I'm around. When I kissed ya dat morning in da parking lot, I wanted ya feel everything dat I felt about ya in dat moment. Ya don't have ta say anyt'ing right now, if ya need ta leave so ya can process everyt'ing I understand. Just don't leave me in da dark when ya finally decide what it is ya want ta do."

I got up from where I was seated, crossed the room and grabbed the remote for the television; handing it to him as I made my way to the door. "I do need some time to process all of this. I'll be back in a couple of hours with dinner; that is if you're hungry enough by that time. Call me if you need help with anything."

To say that I was terrified was an understatement. Never in my life have I heard someone make such a confession, his words alone started tugging away a little bit at my heartstrings the longer they sat in my head. I took the stairs back down to the third floor and walked into my apartment to find the cats playing inside their cardboard box fort. I also found their water bowl knocked over in the kitchen and water everywhere. Once I got all of the water up, I pulled a bag of chicken out of the freezer and threw the remaining four pieces in the crock-pot on high for the next couple of hours. It was the last week of February and they were predicting another snow storm to come rolling in so tonight was going to be a comfort food night. My only hope was that Connor was smart enough to come home after he got off work rather than get drunk at the bar with his buddies.

He had been on the edge of his seat ever since Murphy had his accident though he was able to relax some after he woke up; the times that I did manage to send him home to sleep or go to work to distract him, he would go to McGinty's instead and drink until he fell asleep. It was bad enough that the first time I sent him home, Rocco called me to ask if I could bail him out of jail. Apparently a couple of drunken college girls were trying to hit on Connor and talk him into taking them back to his place for some three's company. From what Rocco said over the phone, he tried to be polite and tell them no insisting that now was not a good time; he even went so far as to use the 'I have a girlfriend' line. One girl in particular was belligerently pushy, apparently she didn't like being told "no." From what I could gather on Rocco's debriefing, this pushy bitch tried sticking her nose where it didn't belong. She had asked Connor that if he had a girlfriend then why was he in the bar drinking like a fish; her friend had answered that it was probably because 'she's an ugly skank and he has to drink so he can get it up.'

"You know that vein in his forehead that sticks out when he's super fucking pissed? I swear you could see it beating away like it had a heart of its own he was so pissed. I've seen him pretty pissed off about some shit before but this surpassed everything." If what Rocco had said was true then poor Doc was about to experience the worst that Hurricane Connor had to offer.

The girls called the cops and were trying to press charges when Connor threw one of the glasses on the bar down to the floor, sending shards of glass everywhere; a couple of pieces hit them in the face. He then started a brawl in the middle of the bar when one of their male friends started pushing him when they started accusing him of assault. I could only imagine the trouble he had caused for Doc beyond that. Knowing Connor though, I would've hoped that he had offered to pay Doc back for breaking the glass as well as any other damages that had occurred.

I told Rocco I could loan the 10% it took to get him out but I needed that money back and he would have to come up to the hospital to get it; I wasn't going to leave Murphy that night just in case he decided to wake up and no one was there. It was going on midnight when I had gotten that call from Rocco and almost 1:30 in the morning by the time he finally made it up to the hospital. Rocco apologized profusely about everything saying he tried his best to get them to back off after being told no but when the one had started pushing one too many buttons, Connor lashed out. Their mom had raised them right, to never put their hands on a woman in anger no matter how much she deserved it, except that day when Rosie nailed Connor in the balls and Murphy had to save the day. From Rocco's explanation, he threw the glass down he had been drinking out of to avoid the temptation of hitting them however when their friend got involved he couldn't pass up the chance to redirect some of that anger on a more appropriate target.

A half hour after that at 2 a.m. my phone started going off again. Rocco had taken the check I had written out and was already gone. The number flashing across the screen was one I didn't recognize but given what had happened I answered anyway.

"Hello?" I had just picked my sore, aching head up off of Murphy's chest for probably the third time already in about two hours.

"Drunk…Roc…in jail…need bail…"

"Connor, is that you? It's two something in the morning, for the love of God let me go to sleep. Rocco is on his way up with the bail money and will bring you up here when you sober up."

"Dat's good, I'm gonna…what was I gonna do?"

"You were getting ready to hang up and let me try to get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning, hopefully sober."

I had disconnected the call after that, put my phone on silent, and rested my weary head back against Murphy's chest listening to the sound of his heart beating away steadily inside. As I shut my eyes, I whispered for him to please wake up. I was jolted awake at the ass crack of dawn with the door of the room slamming open against the wall and found Connor stumbling into the room towards his chair by the bed. Rocco was in tow and shut the door behind him.

"I'm really sorry, I tried to get him to go sleep after bailing him out but he did nothing except raid my fridge for what little beer there was in there. Donna's been gone the last couple of weeks so at least she didn't have to put up with him."

Connor was now in his chair by the bed with this head thrown back and limbs stretched out snoring loud enough to wake the dead. If that didn't wake Murphy, I don't know what would. He looked more like a starfish the way he was all stretched out and here I was with Rocco, completely exhausted and sleep deprived.

"I'm going to go home, think you can stay for a little bit? I didn't sleep at all last night or this morning. In between putting out this fire, I had their boss calling the room phone asking if he's awake yet, I had the nurses coming in to check on him. Maybe if I go home I can get twenty minutes worth of sleep before the alarm goes off."

I got out of the bed and left the room before Rocco had a chance to answer, grabbing what few things I had with me and headed for home. With so little traffic at 5:00 in the morning, I got home in under a half hour and crashed on the couch as soon as I crossed over the threshold. I never heard my alarm go off; I ended up missing an entire day's worth of work and the first half of one of my classes. It was worth it in the end being able to catch up on the sleep I had missed out on.

I was brought out of my memories as my phone started going off; it was nearly 3:30 in the afternoon. Glancing at the caller I.D., I saw Connor's name flash across the small screen before I answered it.

"Is he home yet? How's he doing?"

"He's home; when I left to get started on dinner he was sitting on the couch with the remote in one hand and lighting up a cigarette with the other. He was hoping you were going to be with me to get him from the hospital but seemed to understand that you had to work today. The doctor cleared him to go back to work next week and only wants him working half-days until he goes back for his follow-up in three months."

"I wanted ta be dere but I'm taking off early tonight so I should be home around 6; just in time for dinner, right? What are ya making? By da way, I got some news about Rosie."

"Thought that with the snow they're predicting for tonight I'd make chicken & dumplings for dinner. Hot meal and comfort food all in one night, what do you think? Did you ever get around to calling your Ma? I know you don't like the fact that I called her and told her what happened, but she had the right to know. Before you even start, I know there wasn't much of anything she could do from an ocean away but she did help keep me from completely losing it like you did on more than one occasion."

"I'll tell ya about it when I get dere; but I've got ta go, my break is over and da quicker I finish up here, da quicker I can get home ta me brudder."

The phone went silent on his end after a short click. Sighing, I hung up the phone and thought back to the event that unfolded two weeks ago. It was shortly after 9:00 on Saturday morning and I had decided to go up to the hospital much earlier than anticipated with a special breakfast request from Murphy. He had told me that he was sick of hospital food and he wanted real food, asking if I could bring in some of the breakfast casserole I would make just about every couple of weeks. Obliging, I brought enough that we could have breakfast together and there would be some left if Connor came up and was hungry. I had also brought in some sausage gravy and a half dozen biscuits; I'm not a biscuit eater but it was at Murphy's request.

Connor came bursting through the door of the room around 9:45 that morning damn near shouting in my face, asking why I had called their Ma. His face was as red as an iron coal and Murphy's had turned to a ghastly shade of white. There went, what I had hoped to be, my good morning as well as my appetite and temper.

"One, if you _ever_ raise your voice to me like that again I _will_ put you in a bed right next to your brother. Two, she's your mother and she has the right to know when one or both of her children are seriously injured to the point where it's life or death. Three, I needed someone to talk to who not only understood why I was upset but who could also talk me out of murdering that fucking fat, angry lesbian who started this shit. Connor, the way you were and are currently acting is the reason why I nearly lost my goddamn mind. Not only was I constantly talking you down off the ledge every fucking day, but I had to deal with other people coming in here at all hours of the night unloading the day's burdens onto me as well. Rocco was bitching and griping about Donna, your boss was worried that you would drink yourself to death, poor Doc was scared you were going to hurt yourself you were drinking so much, the doctors and nurses were in here just about every hour offering prayers and condolences in between checking vitals, lines, and fluids; did you know that one of the nurses even had the nerve to ask me why we didn't just 'pull the plug' on him?

"Your mother was the only reasonable person I could talk to, even on the days when she was drunker than the two of you she'd sober up enough and listen to the feedback of what all the doctors would say. Did you not stop to think about why I was in here just about every other day with a notebook writing everything down? I would sincerely hope that if it were me in that bed instead of Murphy that one of you would have the decency to call my family and let them know what was going on. Even if they could not be here physically, the knowledge that at least my family knows something is wrong with me to the point I'm in the hospital would be somewhat reassuring since people nowadays don't give two shits about each other anymore. If anything had happened to Murphy beyond this would _you_ have been able to make that phone call yourself or would you have rather your mother know ahead of time what's going on so she can prepare herself for the worst and hope for the best alongside the rest of your family back home?"

By the time I was finished saying what I had to say, I was shaking and seething with anger. My fists were clenching and unclenching in time with my ragged breathing and I was having a stare down with Connor. That is, until I heard Murphy clearing his throat, distracting me and redirecting my glare.

"Even if Connor doesn't agree, I'm glad you called our Ma. She does have da right ta know if I'm okay; she has da right ta know we're both okay. Next time t'ough, tell us dat yer gonna call her so we can give ya a fair warning. Dere's stuff we've told her about ya and neither of us would want any of dat ta slip before you've been properly prepared fer da situation. Hope to God she didn't rat us out. She's good fer taking da piss out of all our fun."

"She was telling me stories every time I talked with her, said I could use it for either good or evil but would prefer I'd use for it evil; use it as leverage when you little bastards start stepping out of line. Her words, not mine. I think she did it more as a coping mechanism when the alcohol would wear off. I had managed to catch her before she left for mass that Sunday morning you woke up; she was all ready to have your uncle say a prayer of sorts but when I told her you were awake she said that they were going to have to change it from sad and sorrowful to an all-out Irish celebration. Which, I took to mean they were going to the bar and getting shit-faced all over again but for an entirely different reason."

Connor had calmed down pretty quickly after my explanation and had taken a seat on the opposite side of the Murphy's bed, picking up what was left over from breakfast and dug in. The three of us ate virtually in silence before Connor finally grew a sack big enough to apologize for the way he had been acting lately, especially that morning.

I was brought out of my thoughts once again as my phone started ringing again. I saw Murphy's name on the screen and figured that he needed help with something but when I answered the voice on the other line was not his. It took on more of a creepy, impending doom type of tone.

"Hello, Red."

 _Author's note: Of course there's another cliff! Don't know about everyone else, I rather enjoy a nice little cliff as it opens an endless door of possibilities. I do apologize if this seems to be rather lengthy, but I wanted to explore Connor's trip to crazy town since we don't really get to see him flying off the handle when an emotionally charged situation calls for everyone to_ not _be in a level-headed state of mind. Also please keep in mind that Red has not had a moment to herself to decompress since everything that's been happening so, at least for the time being, she is extremely high-strung and is also not in a very good state of mind._


	23. Chapter 23

_A/N: before we get started kids, just wanted to give a quick shout out to Valerie E. Mackin for giving the first part of this a glance. There were some questions that have come up so I hope that this answers some of them. I also hope that later chapters will answer some more questions that you may be thinking or have previously asked. As always, feel free to drop a comment/review in the pretty box below and if you have any burning questions, don't hesitate to drop me a PM._

 **Chapter 23**

"I don't care who you are, but I swear if you hurt him I will murder you."

"What the fuck are you on? You would murder your own sister for someone you barely know? Shit, I knew you liked them but Christ I didn't think you would go as far as murder for them. Get your ass up here with dinner so we can chow down, I'm fucking starving! I haven't eaten since last night."

The phone went dead after that and I heaved a sigh of relief. Normally when the twins are hungry and want dinner, they come down here, but since Murphy was still having a few problems, I guess dinner was coming to them until things returned to normal (or as close to normal as possible). The twins coming over for dinner on a regular basis didn't start until after I got back in town from my two week Christmas vacation. I had learned the truth from Charlie about what had happened to my apartment during my absence and was in desperate need of a drink when the revelations came forth. He had, in fact, taken advantage of my home while it was empty and he admitted to neglecting my cats. Despite my attempts to let me pay them for doing what Charlie was supposed to have done, Connor and Murphy both agreed that paying for their drinks and dinner that night at McGinty's would be more than sufficient.

"Do you two ever eat anything besides greasy burgers and fries?" There were only a handful of people in the bar that night and Doc had fired up the grill when the boys had come in complaining that they were hungry.

"Of course we do, we eat pizza and whatever dey're serving down at da diner." Connor stated around a mouth full of chewed up meat and bread.

"I've been in your apartment before so I know you don't really use the stove but don't you ever eat home cooked meals? Do you not realize how much money you could be saving yourselves if you cut down on how much take-out and sit down food you eat?"

"Haven't eaten anyt'ing homemade since T'anksgiving night at yer place and before dat, da last home cooked meal we had was dat casserole ya made da day after yer brief trip ta da hospital fer yer stabbing." Murphy chimed in; at least he was nice enough to swallow a mouth full of fries before talking.

"Let me guess, prior to that nothing homemade has hit your stomachs since before you left home? Neither of you can just sit there and tell me that you didn't have a girlfriend or something that you would mooch off of and get free meals from."

"We've both had girlfriends since being here, but none of dem could cook worth a damn. Dis one girl dat I used ta go out with couldn't even boil a pot of water. At least dat was somet'ing Ma taught us ta do since dere are times dat we've been sick and had to make our own tea and soups."

"Connor, that's disgusting; at least swallow your food first before you start showering me in bits and pieces of it. If you guys want to save a little bit of money, I make a ton of food over the course of a week. Since it's just me, I can stretch the food out to make enough for three meals. If you ever get sick of fast food or diner food, you know where I live; dinner's generally on the table around 6:00. I will ask that if you choose to eat at my place each of you chips in $10 a week to pay for the extra food and if there are any special requests that you put in extra to cover the cost of that."

Shaking my head of the small memory, I checked the time on my phone again. The chicken was going to take another couple of hours to cook through so rather than bringing everything upstairs now I figured I would wait until Connor got home and settled in, that way my sister could help me carry everything into the elevator. I was just thankful that our mom taught us the value of cooking more than you planned on eating: you get leftovers if there is enough or if someone drops by suddenly there's enough for them. My sister coming into town just ahead of a big snow storm meant that I was going to be pulling leftovers from out of the freezer until she goes home.

I walked to the door, grabbed the keys from the rack and headed back out into the hallway. I hadn't seen my sister since I left just after the New Year and I never bothered to tell her anything about what was going on since I talked to her the day Murphy got put into the hospital. How in the hell she managed to get to Boston without my knowledge was beyond me. I don't know how anyone would've been able to get her number from my phone when the damn thing was tucked away in my pockets for most of the day. The only time I really didn't have it on me was when I was in the bathroom or sleeping.

"You have to tell me how in the hell you met my fucked up sister. Believe it or not she was a normal person before her ex got his claws into her and turned her into the quiet, brooding, moody bitch you see today."

I paused just outside the door as I heard my sister's voice; she always had a tendency to be loud and obnoxious but the fact that she was talking about me and my ex like that hurt. Yeah, I was (and still am) pretty messed up from everything and my ex was never really a pleasant person to be around but that didn't mean my own flesh and blood had the right to talk shit. If anything, she's the pot calling the kettle black: her ex used to beat on her and nearly sent her to the hospital after he slammed her head into a wall. What's worse is that they were living in an apartment next door to a police officer. At least with my previous relationship, the marks on me were from too much rough sex rather than getting my ass beat every night. Despite what my ex put me through, he knew that if he ever hit me in anger I would've had no problem shooting him; I would've done it with a smile on my face too.

"Yer sister seems pretty normal ta me, if anyt'ing she reminds me of me Ma. She knows how ta take da piss out of us and I honestly t'ink she could give our Ma a run fer her money when it comes to drinking. She's got a big heart dat sits inside a steel cage on her sleeve but she's not gonna take any shit from either me or me brudder. She actually cooks better den our Ma ever did; don't ya dare tell me brudder I said dat t'ough. We met her on da elevator; it wasn't da ideal circumstance ta be meeting someone t'ough. She got mugged and stabbed in an alley when we met her; we ended up taking her to da hospital and brought her back home. I already told her dat I had been sneaking down da fire escape ta check in on her just about every night when she went ta bed. Probably shouldn't be telling you dis, but yer sister is an untamed wildcat when it comes ta sex. I've heard stories of da t'ings she keeps in her closet and if t'ings work out between us, I don't t'ink I have much patience ta wait and see what comes out."

"If you really want to know, I could tell you…"

Enough was enough I knocked on the door and waited until I heard Murphy yell at me to come in. Upon entry, I saw Murphy sitting at what was left of the kitchen table holding a cigarette and my sister sitting opposite of him sliding a can of beer between her hands.

"Or you could just ask me. Better yet, I _am_ from the show-me state so don't you think it'd be more fun for me to show you than it would be for me to tell you? Why do you and Connor both just jump to conclusions on everything little thing I say or do? Are you too chicken shit to just ask and think it's easier to scream in my face when something comes up that you feel like you have to question me?"

"Dat's a good point ya have, maybe after dinner I'll go poking around and see if dere's anyt'ing dat catches my eye. Maybe if you would start being more open with us we wouldn't have ta jump ta conclusions."

"I'm not doing this right now. Dinner won't be ready until closer to 6:00; Connor called me a little bit ago and said he was going to be taking off early tonight so he can be home to see his baby brother."

"Fuck dat, I'm da oldest and he knows it! When he does decide ta drag himself in, we'll head downstairs. If he does come home early tonight rather den going ta da bar, he'll want ta get cleaned up a bit. He can help me get onta da lift and back, ya've done more den yer fair share.

"Don't be so hard on your brother; you've both been through some pretty rough things the past month. How's _this_ for opening up? While you were knocked out, Connor was pouring himself into the bar every night rather than sleeping. I can't even begin to tell you how many times a night Rocco would call me to try and talk some sense into him just to keep him from having to go back to jail. I bailed him out once and he owes me that money back. You just came home today so if you could, just lay off your brother just until he gets used to you being back here. Then by all means, you may resume kicking each other's asses over who the older brother is."

"You guys are twins and you don't know who was born first?" I almost forgot my sister was in the room with us until she spoke up. Murphy nodded his head in affirmation and took a final drag off his cigarette before snubbing it out in the ashtray, blowing a smoke ring into the air.

"Last year, our Ma called us on St. Patrick's Day and played a fucking horrible trick on us; dat is a story for anot'er time. Just before she hung up we asked her who came out first and she told us da one with da bigger cock. Yer sister here slept with da both of us and still won't tell us which one has da bigger cock. I t'ink Ma told her and dey're just conspiring against us. Dey got ta talking while I was in da hospital and now dey're telling secrets."

"Hey, she never told me who the oldest was. But I did tell you both that I needed to talk to your Ma and confer with her on what she meant by 'bigger cock.' Did she mean bigger in length or bigger in girth? Any woman who says that size doesn't matter is lying her ass off. Size does matter it's just a matter of perspective and depends on what she likes. That kind of conversation is one that's best had under a completely different circumstance alongside copious amounts of alcohol. I'm going to go back downstairs and take a nap for a little bit. I'll see you all around 6-6:30 tonight. Already told Connor, but I'm making chicken & dumplings for dinner tonight. You're lucky that I put in an extra piece of chicken into the crock-pot." I added pointing my finger at my sister then left allowing them to resume their previous conversation before I had interrupted.

* * *

"The fuck crawled up her ass and died?"

"She's put a lot of stress on herself worrying over da pair of us and da loads she's carrying fer work and school aren't helping. You going all Hannibal Lecter on her probably didn't help matters either. I'm sorry dat ya have ta see me like dis t'ough; when Connor told me dat ya were coming up, I tried talking him inta pushing it off until me hair grew back and I was back at work full-time. Was it his bright idea ta call ya up?"

"It was, I had sent her a message asking if she had any plans for spring break; usually when I text her that late at night or early in the morning, she'll text me back when she wakes up or goes on her lunch break. Instead I get a call from your brother on her phone asking me if I wanted to meet the two of you. He sounded drunk as hell when he called me so I told him to call me back when he sobers up. A week or so later he calls me up again at a normal hour, asks if I wanted to come up and meet you guys. I said yes and here I am. Now tell me why I'm here."

"Don't quite know where ta begin with dat one. I t'ink she's wearing blinders and I don't know how ta make her see dat we're standing right in front of her. She sees us and acknowledges us but she either can't see dat, at least I want somet'ing more or she flat out refuses ta even t'ink of dat as a possibility."

"She's been through a lot the past couple of years. Usually the first sign that you know you're breaking through her armor is that she starts shutting herself off; kind of like a turtle going inside of its shell. Have either of you said anything that would make her want to wall herself off?"

"Just before ya got here I poured my heart out ta her and she's trying ta process dat. Sorry if dis sounds like a stupid question but why would she want ta shut herself off like dat?"

"She doesn't like any kind of attention directed at her. She would rather just go through life being as non-existent as possible. If she had her way she'd be invisible to everyone but, that's not the way things happen. She thinks that if she doesn't have any sort of contact with other people then she's less likely to get hurt.

"Anything else you want to add to that? There has to be some sort of underlying stress or tension that's come up while you were laid up in the hospital. The way she was standing just inside the doorway tells me that she's having an internal war of some kind and doesn't quite know the best way to approach whatever it is that's bothering her."

"Ya know, fer someone so smart, she's so fucking stupid. Da fuck is she t'inking dose t'ings fer anyway?"

"If you had someone teasing you, making fun of you, torturing you, or tormenting you since you were five, you would feel the same way."

"I've had dat since birth but ya don't see me shutting folks out."

"These were the types of people putting it into her head that the world would be much better off without her around. You hear words like that as five year old you don't know how to change that perception when people like you come along trying to tell her otherwise. She's been seeing a shrink off and on since she was about 10, that was when the suicide attempts started. They've all told her that it was in her best interest to voluntarily have herself committed then they would start her on an intense program of some kind that would involve pumping her full of anti-depressants and anti-psychotics. Part of the reason she stayed in Utah for those two years was because her ex was just as fucked up as she was; damaged people seek out damaged people."

"No wonder she doesn't want us ta get close."

"She doesn't want to put anyone through the emotional rollercoaster ride when she has a relapse. It's just easier for her to throw up a wall and shut everyone out. Whatever it was that you told her before I got here must've struck a nerve because I have not seen her look that conflicted in a long time."

"She's been trying ta keep me from losing it in da hospital and trying ta keep Connor occupied with work and out of jail until his hearing. Since I've known her, she at least willingly eats somet'ing once or twice a day but lately she's stopped eating altogether stopped. She's lost at least 15 or 20 pounds running herself ragged between work, school, and putting up with da two of us as well as listening ta everyone else's problems. She's been talking with our Ma and dat seems ta take a bit of da edge off when she's able ta laugh a little. But when dey hang up its back ta way she was before dat. Since all of dis has happened, she hasn't had any time ta decompress or let off some steam. As far as I know, it's still all bottled up."

"So she's been up to her old ways again, huh? That's just like her; she's always been more concerned about the people around her than she is with her own well-being. Don't get me wrong, I love my sister but she cares too much about other people. When she came back from Utah, she managed to get her old job back at the hospital and nearly worked herself to death just trying to forget. I would say after about 6-7 months after being back home, she met this guy who managed to worm his way into her heart and fed her one sob story after another trying to get sympathy sex; she never put out though. First it was a dead grandmother then it progressed from there. The final straw was when she caught him in a lie when he told her his grandma was in the hospital, the same grandma who was supposed to have been dead when she met him.

"I love my sister to death, but I don't want to see her getting hurt all over again. She can sniff out a lie quicker than a K-9 sniffing out drugs. Just be honest with her on everything; her insecurities are her downfall. I know for a fact that she won't mind you going out with your brother and your friends, just make sure that she's the one you are coming home too rather than getting your dick wet elsewhere. Oh, and word to the wise, when she does blow her top finally, I suggest everyone in the immediate area get the fuck out of Dodge as quick as possible. Has her temper reared its ugly head at all since you've gotten to know her?"

"It has on more den one occasion been da source of many a losing battle. When she found out Connor had been listening in while she was getting herself off shortly after her accident, I confronted her about it; she hit me with a frying pan. Den when we found out she'd been talking with Ma while I was laid up, she t'reatened ta put Connor in a bed next ta me. Da woman is fucking violent, it's almost scary how unpredictable she can be."

"Shit, you should see her when she's on the rag; now there's some violent, unpredictable behavior for ya. She was about 12 and I was about 10. She had come home early from school that day because she started her period and was in the nurse's office throwing up. She chased me down the street barefoot, in her pajamas with a pair of scissors. Found out later she was stuck on a math problem, was frustrated as hell, and I made some sort of backhanded comment about how it really wasn't that hard. It was the straw that broke the camel's back that day."

"Her friend Charlie told us stories about how her ex had a whore for everyday of da week but dat he would go home ta her every night. She was naïve, young, and impressionable at da time. Over da few months dat I've gotten ta know her, she seems ta have learned from dat mistake and consequently has issues trusting anyone who claims ta have her best interests at heart. When I confessed ta her earlier what I wanted from her I could see da steel chains wrap around her heart. I t'ink dat we can both agree dat she's scared shitless; she's gonna need da both us and so many others ta have her back when she starts ta fall."

"She's my sister, I have her back no matter what. Like I said though, just be honest with her on everything and you'll be fine. If you have questions that you want to ask her, then ask. She's not going to bite your head off for wanting to know something about her. Since we have your motives figured out, let's find out what it is exactly that your brother wants from her. If she's slept with the both you and you both are hanging around her just about every day, there has to be something between those two. It may not be as strong or as developed as what you feel for her but there is something there."

"Dat is somet'ing yer going ta have ta ask him yerself. Most of what he has ta say about her he saves for confession and unless ya have been wire-tapping da confessionals dere's not much I can tell ya."

"Oh, don't you worry, I fully intended on asking him. Now let's get down to the nitty gritty. What makes you think you're man enough for the likes of my sister? Not that I'm comparing you to him, since I just met you, but the only redeemable quality about her ex was that he would place her safety above everything else; he would make sure that if he had to go out of town for any reason that she, more or less, had a bodyguard at all times. That and he never raised his hand to her. She's admitted there was more than one occasion where he wanted to but she had put his gun to his face and told him if he ever did she'd kill him before he could raise that hand up a second time."

"Ya don't have ta worry about dat with us; me and Connor prefer ta beat each other inta submission when we've argued with our previous girlfriends. Do ya mind?" he asked, holding up the pack of cigarettes before fishing one out and lighting it up.

"No offense, but it is something I do have to worry about. Even good men with good intentions can flip the switch and turn into some sort of monster in the blink of an eye. Now, keep talking. We've got plenty of time to kill before dinner is ready. What do you mean you've beaten each other into submission when you've argued with past girlfriends?"

"We were raised ta never put our hands on a woman, so we'd pick a fight with each o'her just so we could let out dat pent-up frustrations. What is it ya want ta know? I could give ya da well-rehearsed story dat we've both told but I doubt dat's what ya want to hear."

"Well, your mom did good. I guess start with what it is you do for a living."

"We work fer a meat packing plant not far from here, maybe 30 minutes if the T isn't running late. We were just fresh off da boat and really had nothing to our names; all we had were a few hundred Euros and a bag of clothes each. Went scouring around town until we ended up at da bar, sat down for a pint and started talking to whoever we could. Our boss had just come in and was complaining dat folks were quitting left and right so we asked him if he needed any help. Went down to da plant da next day and dey hired us on da spot. We were pretty quick ta learn da ropes. Had ta ask fer an advance on da paychecks so we could put a roof over our heads which was how we ended up here. Cheap housing, cheap utilities; we don't need much as ya can see."

For the next few hours Murphy spoke about everything that her sister wanted to know. All the way from being raised by a single mom, to why they left home, to what made him change his tune about wanting his relationship with Red to be more than what they currently have. He explained how it was in the beginning, how it was supposed to be strictly sex.

"I may never be able ta fully comprehend why she is da way she is, but I want ta try. Don't you ever tell her I told ya dis ot'erwise she may never forgive me: I was seeing someone else da same time I was sleeping around with yer sister. Dat ship had been sinking since da beginning and I've no idea why I stayed as long as I did."

"Have you told her you love her yet?"

"No, do ya t'ink I should?"

" _Hell no!_ Are you fucking insane? One, she hates hearing those three words from someone who doesn't mean it and two, you just sat there and told me that my sister was the other woman. She is _not_ going to reciprocate those words if she ever finds out about that. Besides that, you can't even give me a straight answer about the 'ah-ha' moment you had that made you _want_ to pursue something more with her. For me and my boyfriend, it came while we were sitting on the couch watching some movie and drinking beer. He let out a belch and I followed suit, mine was louder. The next thing I know, he turns to me and says 'I love you.' But you? You've been playing secret agent man and watching her movements under the cover of night. As you put it, you were doing all of that spying in the _hopes_ that if she opened up to you just a little bit that you could try to emotionally stabilize her. Yes, she does need that; we all do but if that's all you are willing to bring to the table then I would never in a million years tell her those three words. My sister does not believe in false hopes or hanging her hat on feelings; she never has. If you ever want to tell her you love her, you need to figure out what that 'ah-ha' moment is beforehand because she will question you about it. Even then she will probably never believe you. You have to lay down all of your cards and be prepared for an all-out war before you will ever convince her to believe you.

"Murphy, trust me when I say that you seem like a nice enough guy but you have to figure out what it is that makes you want to pursue more with my sister. You cannot use her fears and emotions as a way to get to her. And you cannot say that sex is a motivator. Pouring your heart out to her about wanting more is a good start, but you need to figure out what it is that has drawn you into wanting more. Was it something she said or something she did that finally made the lightbulb go off inside your head? Was it something she made for dinner one night that made you think that it was something you could get used to? Did you ever find yourself thinking that she may be someone your Ma would like enough for you to want them to meet each other?"

The words echoed off of every nerve ending, every synapse in his brain. He knew what she was saying was true. He knew he wanted more from Red and he knew he had to find that pivotal moment in time when he knew it was what he wanted. Not everything needed to be justified with reasoning, but if it meant tearing through her defense then he needed to have things figured out for himself before those three words passed over his tongue.


	24. Chapter 24

_A/N: Thank you to all who have viewed/reviewed thus far. It really does mean a lot knowing that folks are out there on the interwebs reading. Hopefully this small bit will be enough to whet your appetites for a little while. As always, comments/reviews welcome; please PM me with any suggestions you may have._

 **Chapter 24**

"Connor, I thought you said you weren't coming over until it was closer to 6:00?" It was just after 5:00 when I was brought out of a deep sleep by someone knocking heavily on the door. I dragged my feet across the cold floor until I reached the front door and pulled it open to find Connor standing in the hall with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pea coat.

"Surprise! Boss let me out earlier den anticipated since I told him Murph was coming home today; told me he'd rather let me off da hook early instead of getting not'ing done. Which is pretty much true, since I got off da phone with ya I haven't done hardly any work."

He pushed his way inside and closed the door behind him, kicking his boots off. He smelled like raw meat, completely the opposite of what I was used to but there wasn't much I could say on the subject since there were times I went up to the hospital smelling like a graveyard. The homicide investigation class I took last semester partners up with the Boston P.D. on occasion to give students some first-hand experience of what they could see in the field; kind of like a last chance to back out of forensics now before it's too late. The particular case that I was assigned to had been a 25 year old cold case and the judge had just signed off on exhuming the body. I wasn't expecting to work with Dolly, Duffy, and Greenly so I could only imagine the looks on their faces when they saw me standing over an open grave while a backhoe was pulling dirt out. It took the entire six weeks I was working with them to remember their names but at least they didn't give me such a hard time about it. I think Greenly's favorite part of the whole thing was having me do coffee and bagel runs though Duffy quickly put an end to it, much to my relief.

"Besides, I figured ya could use a little TLC after being forced ta take care of me baby brudder all day." I had made my way into the kitchen to check on the chicken and to get started on the rest of dinner when Connor came up from behind, rested his chin on my shoulder and wrapped his arms around me. He accentuated his point by pressing his hips into my ass.

I knew what he wanted, shit I wanted what he had to offer but I was too distracted with my sister unexpectedly dropping by and Murphy's grand speech. "Maybe some other time when my brain isn't so filled with unrefined thoughts. I've got to finish up dinner if you want to use the shower. I would caution you on going upstairs though since apparently my sister has decided to pay me a visit and she's been up there with Murphy for the past few hours. For her sake I hope he hasn't tried to charm her out of her pants; she's in a pretty committed relationship with the possibility of marriage in the future and I would hate to see her fuck it up."

"Ya weren't supposed ta know she was here until dinner; how did ya find out? I don't t'ink he'd do dat t'ough with da way he's been trying ta reel ya in."

"Let me ask you something while I'm thinking about it. Why do you assume that I have spent my whole day taking care of him? I picked him up from the hospital, brought him home, and came back down here to have some peace to myself. He's a grown man, he can take care of himself; he doesn't need me to babysit him or wait on him hand and foot. Why do you both just fly off the handle when I say or do something? When I called your mom for instance and told her what happened you went postal on my ass. Seriously, what gives? You're both so quick to jump to conclusions without knowing the full story that you don't seem to really care to ask me directly when something comes as a concern to you."

"Don't mean to, guess we're just jackasses."

"You can say that again; next time though just fucking ask. I'm not going to rip your head from your shoulders for asking. Not to beat a dead horse or anything, but when you came up to the hospital that one day screaming about why I was talking to your mom? You could've just asked in a much calmer tone about why I was calling her. Another thing, rather than listening to the rumor mill if you hear my name being brought up in conversation and you think it's a concern, fucking ask me. Remember when you both came here pounding your fists on my door, scaring the shit out of me? You both had over-heard Rocco saying he saw me on the street corner leaning into the passenger window of a car just before I came into the bar wearing that black dress because I forgot my bad-date-gone-bad bag. _That was_ the bad date gone bad. I was reaching back into the car to get my purse off the seat. Rocco was just saying shit to get a rise out of you by saying that was my night job."

"Point taken; but maybe we wouldn't be jumping ta conclusions if you would just talk ta us. We can't help ya if we don't know there's a problem. How'd ya know yer sister was here?"

I took Connor's arms from around my waist so I could dig around in the freezer for the veggies. These were meat and potatoes kind of guys but a few vegetables in their diet wasn't going to be the end of the world. "She called me on Murphy's phone after I hung up with you; gave me quite a scare when she went all Hannibal Lecter on me with that creepy 'hello, Clarisse' line. How did you guys get her number from my phone? Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to see my sister, but what the hell is she doing in Boston anyway?"

"When Murph was still in da coma, I came back up to da hospital one night after ya sent me home. Roc had ta drag me out of da bar ta keep me from starting anot'er fight and dropped me off. Anyway, I saw ya in da bed next ta him and saw yer phone lying on da tray. Yer sister had texted ya and I made a last minute decision ta call her up. I, more or less, told her dat you might need a little help finding yer way back inta da world of dating. She told me ta call her when I was sober; called her back a few weeks later. I told her about what Murph was doing just about every night and how frustrated he was dat you were wearing blinders. She never asked me t'ough about how I felt about ya and I never brought it up. Its somet'ing dat I wanted ta tell ya meself when I found da right words ta say. We still have anot'er 45 minutes before dinner…" he trailed off, returning his arms to where they were before; breathing in my ear and wrapping his lips around my earlobe.

"If you keep that up, dinner won't get finished." Damn him and his charms!

"Dat's da point." He continued his assault on my ear and started moving his hands towards the waistband of my pajama pants. "Who knows how long it'll be before ya can get dis kind of attention again while yer sister is here."

I hate it when he feels the need to make a point out of everything; the last time Connor and I had any time alone together was just after I got back home, probably a day or two before Murphy had his accident. Murphy got stuck working the graveyard shift at the plant when that dumbass they worked with called in sick for the ninth night in a row; their boss fired the lazy son of a bitch and called Murphy to pick-up the shift. So rather than going out and spending money, Connor invited me up to their place for a movie night. Neither of us watched any of the movies, instead he spent the night massaging the kinks out of my back and progressed to giving me the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced to date.

"Will 10 minutes be enough to tide you over until my sister leaves and your brother is back to work?"

"No, but I guess it'll have ta be. If I had my way I'd make dis last a full 24 hours."

"Who's the one with the insatiable appetite for sex now?"

I had barely gotten the last of the veggies in the crock-pot to heat through and the lid on the dumpling dough when Connor grasped my hand and all but dragged me towards the bedroom.

"You've got 10 minutes to do whatever it is you want to do. As soon as that alarm goes off, regardless of whether or not either of us got off, I'm throwing in the towel and finishing dinner."

Connor was busy rounding the cats up out of the bedroom while I set the timer. If I learned anything about Connor on the subject of sex it was that he was not afraid to try new things. The first time I had slept with him he told me that he wanted to take his time with me, making sure everything was as slowed down as possible so he could drag it out for as long as he could. That night I discovered that he might have a hidden kink for some light to moderate bondage. He liked the idea of handcuffs and blindfolds, but when I mentioned rope I saw a hint of a dangerous smile behind his eyes. Today would be no different.

He didn't say a word as I heard him rummaging through the closet; I knew he was searching for the ever elusive rope. I liked to hide it in a different spot after every time he used it. It might sound cruel, but I enjoyed watching him get so worked up over it; that and the voice of that kinky little bitch in my head very much enjoyed the way he would take those frustrations out on me. I had to change the hiding place this time and move the rope from out of the closet to under the bed; the last time he used it on me I got some pretty bad rope burns and the safe word had to be enabled when part of it started cutting into my wrists enough to make them bleed. Truth be told, _I_ didn't say the actual safe word. If I could survive being pile-driven through a marble table by Murphy, then some rope burns weren't nothing. But Connor had insisted on stopping everything despite my protests; he likes to think that I used the safe word that day.

I should've been paying more attention when I stopped hearing things clatter around inside the closet and felt a hand wrap around my ankle, pulling me to the floor. His eyes seemed to have turned a brighter shade of blue when he produced the rope that I thought was safely tucked away under the bed.

"I'm impressed dat ya took dis out of da closet fer a change, but yer gonna have ta try harder den dat if ya don't want me ta find it." Connor brought my hands to the front of my body and wrapped them several times, making sure the knot was tight but not so tight that I couldn't get out of it. He swiftly brought my newly bound hands up over my head and looped the knot through the hook that he took out of my bedside table. I don't know why I always kept the two separated; I guess it was easier to put rope on a shelf than it was to hang it in plain sight.

"Time's ticking, Connor; better get busy."

Once he checked to make sure everything above my head was secured, he took the pencil I had stuck in my hair out then took it out of the rubber band that was securing it all in place; letting it scatter across the hardwood floor. He ran his fingers through it a couple of times while he ran his lips over my face and neck before he got around to pushing my tank top up.

"Have I told ya lately, I love it when ya don't wear a bra? Makes doing my job so much easier."

"You know I hate wearing those fucking things, what makes you think I'm going to wear one while I'm in my own home? The only time I really ever wear it is when I have to leave to go somewhere. Unless of course, I'm just going up to your place then no bra required."

He laughed a little bit knowing full well that it made me extremely uncomfortable having to wear it at the bar late at night when all I wanted to do was take the damn thing off and burn it. He then picked up where his lips left off; moving them down my neck, licking along my collarbone while his hands were busy teasing my breasts, trying to quickly bring my nipples to stiffened peaks. When he had finally achieved the level of stiffness that he wanted, he slid a little farther down my body, leaving the cold air to hit the places that he just warmed up on me. His fingers worked to untie the drawstring that held my pants in placed as his tongue wrapped itself around one of my nipples.

With the drawstring finally untied, he fully divested me of both the pants and the green lace panties that I was wearing. I planted my feet on the floor on either side of his knees, lifting my hips up to make the job easier on him. He carefully pulled one foot out then the other, making sure I didn't lose my balance before he took his shirt off, reaching forward so I could use it as a make-shift pillow so my head was less likely to hit against the floor. Despite my hands being tied, while he stretched himself over me, I couldn't help but let the tip of my tongue run up the center of his sternum (at least he didn't taste like raw meat).

"Dat was yer freebie, ya don't get any more of dat until I say, understand?"

I always did love it when someone, other than me, could take charge in the bedroom; but with Connor though it was a constant guessing game. It was enough to keep me on edge as my stomach knotted with anticipation and I felt myself get wet. He gave me one final kiss as I felt his hands on my sides, his short nails lightly running along my ribs leaving goosebumps in their wake. As he detached his lips from mine and moved them along my jaw line, down to my neck, I felt his fingers skate along the underside of my breasts effectively finding my weak spot as if he had known where it was all along, maybe he really did commit that to memory. I couldn't help the groan that escaped when his fingers came into contact with it, bringing my hips up and grinding myself against the ever growing bulge that had been forming in his jeans.

"I'd be a bit more careful if I were you; dat's how ya ended up with dose rope burns da last time. I told ya in da kitchen dat ya needed some TLC; I may only be getting 10 minutes but tonight is all about giving ya what _you_ need, not what I want. Just relax and let Connor do da work."

"You could just by-pass all of this and give me what we both want right now rather than teasing me to death."

"I could do dat, but I won't. If ya continue being a bad girl, I'm gonna have ta blindfold ya which I would hate ta do since I love watching how big yer eyes can get when I do somet'ing like dis…"

His left hand disappeared from my side and he swiftly shoved three fingers inside of me. I knew I was wet enough to handle him going in dry like that, but the force was strong enough to rock my entire body back and any air in my lungs escaped in loud gasp as his name danced across my tongue.

"Dat's me name, now behave yerself."

He removed his fingers and I couldn't help but whimper at the void that was created. I watched as he licked his fingers clean and brought his mouth back down to my chest, his tongue darting out as it traced up my sternum to the hollow of my neck. My breathing picked up when he brought his arms up to play with the rope that bound my wrists together and he started to slowly thrust his jean-clad hips into me, making sure I felt how hard he had gotten in a short amount of time. A deep moan escaped past my lips as his found their way back to my neck and attached themselves onto my pulse point.

He continued to slowly use his mouth and tongue on me before glancing up at the timer that sat on the bedside table, watching as it counted down the last 2 minutes. My head thumped back against his shirt as I felt his tongue make a beeline down the center of my body towards that little bundle of nerves that would send me into overdrive. I almost started screaming at him to finish the job when he got up from the floor but then returned with one of the extra pillows that I kept on the bed before I got even a syllable out.

I lifted myself up off the floor high enough for him to place the pillow under my hips before bringing them back down. When I gave him the silent ok that I was comfortable enough for him to continue, he resumed his place between my legs; keeping his eyes on mine as he ran the flat of his tongue along the seam of my lower lips. I felt another rash of goosebumps spring up as I watched him purse his lips together and began blowing a steady stream of air against where his tongue once was.

Another groan escaped as my head fell back with a thump and my hips came up of their volition, desperately trying to get him to finish what he started. I glanced up at the timer as it reached the last 30 second mark; picking my head up I watched as the tip of his tongue flashed out, moving rapidly against my clit before he pulled it into his mouth.

The timer went off just as I started howling his name.

"Next time you decide you want to give impromptu oral sex, I'll make sure to put dinner off for longer than 10 minutes that way we can both have what we want."

"Like ya said, it'll have ta wait until yer sister goes back. I'm gonna grab a cold shower before I go get dat brudder of mine."

Admittedly, I felt bad that I had to leave Connor hanging like that but it was his own fault that he picked the worst possible timing for inviting my sister to town. He stretched an arm out and took the hook out of the ropes, bringing my arms back down making quick work of the knot and freeing me so I could get dressed and back into the kitchen to finish making dinner.

He followed me out of the bedroom and proceeded into the bathroom. Thin walls and all, it was difficult not to hear him try to rid himself of the hard-on that he developed. I decided that I could put finishing dinner on hold for another 5 minutes or so to return the favor. It was only fair.


	25. Chapter 25

_Shout-out to Valerie E. Mackin for reading through this a couple of times and helping me get everything to flow in a much more cohesive manner. Hope you all enjoy! As always, comments/reviews welcome. Please PM with any suggestions you may have._

 **-Chapter 25**

"Ugh! Food baby! You really did inherit mom's ability to cook, you know that right? Is there anything you cannot make? Seriously, I have no clue why you chose archaeology as your career when you are clearly destined to be a chef."

"I have yet to learn how to master making pan gravy without burning the roux and it's hard to find someone to teach how to make your own marinara when you live an Irish neighborhood. You think I'm joking, but I'm serious; I hate buying the stuff in the jar. It tastes good, but there is so much added stuff that it's designed to taste that way, plus it only lasts for a certain amount of time after it's opened up. Besides, I like being paid to be on my hands and knees getting dirty."

"Well before you start your sided job as a stripper, how about I help you get this all put away and cleaned up, then we can head out for some sister bonding. I want to hear about everything you've been up to with these two Irishmen that you've decided to keep all for yourself. I don't know anything about Connor, but Murphy seems like a good enough guy to me."

"I want dessert before ya head out!"

"Connor, you had dessert before dinner; twice I might add. You can go back to your place though and let my sister grill you for however long she was up there putting Murphy through her rigorous testing." I pulled a beer from the fridge and handed it to him before grabbing plates off the table and placing them in the sink to let them soak. "Murph, don't look so hurt. While my sister is upstairs interrogating Connor, you'll get your dessert. That is if you're up for it."

Murphy nodded in agreement, but said nothing as he got up from the table and walked into the living room to continue watching what was left of the 6:00 news that I had going in the background while we ate. The top stories had been a college student being held hostage by her ex-boyfriend, a bank robbery, four over-night murders, and a child involved in a hit and run; the child thankfully only had minor injuries and the driver had already been apprehended and placed under arrest.

Over dinner, Connor announced that Rosie had been fired from the plant and was being charged with attempted murder. That seemed to make Murphy a little happy but he just didn't seem like himself. He pretty much just sat in his chair, pushed food around on his plate, and ate slowly like he was thinking about whether or not to take the bite that sat on his fork. I didn't know if it was something that my sister said while they were talking or if it was something that I did after he poured his heart out to me. I chose not to dwell on it too much and figured I could ask him about it when I got him alone.

My sister helped me get the kitchen cleaned up in record time and we were out the door to McGinty's in no time at all. I told the twins that we'd probably only be gone for an hour or so if they wanted to stay where they were as long as they didn't break anything. Connor said something about needing to go over some sort of plan with Murphy while we were gone but they should be done by the time we got back. I left them sitting on the couch with one of the cats laying on Murphy's lap and the other slowly falling asleep on Connor's knee.

"What did you say to Murphy while you were upstairs with him? He usually always has something to say when Connor gets something before he does. Aside from that, he generally finds a way of breaking the silence of a room anywhere he goes. I thought for sure he would've said something about Rosie being fired and arrested."

We walked into McGinty's and I received the greeting that I had grown accustomed to: cat calls, wolf whistles, ass grabs, and shoulder slaps. My sister received a similar greeting, sans the shoulder slaps. I made my way up to the bar while my sister grabbed us a table that was in a somewhat quiet part of the place. There really was no such thing as a quiet place on a weeknight once all of the blue-collar workers started coming in from their labor intensive jobs. Doc gave me my usual Guinness and a glass of water for my sister; she had been going through an AA type program and hadn't had any alcohol in almost a year.

"Thanks; by the way I did not drink that beer that Murphy gave me when you came up earlier today. It was just an empty can that I was playing with. So, tell me what's going on between you two. He really likes you, you know? From what he told me, all he really wants to do is make you happy and by extension when you're happy, he will be. Kind of cheesy if you ask me, but to each their own."

"I honestly couldn't tell you what's going on between us. In the beginning when I met him, I thought I made it clear that it was supposed to be nothing more than just sex. At least that way we were both able to fulfill that need to release any sexual tension that had been building up and there would be no repercussions, no feelings, no strings attached. I've always been a sucker for blue eyes, you know that; anyway, we didn't start sleeping together until the day after finals. I got pissed at them when some things happened and they made it up to me in a pretty impressive way. You already know how he made it up to me; I told you about when we were at Gettemeier's, remember?

"Anyway, when he was lying in the hospital in a coma, I was so scared that he wouldn't wake up. In the short amount of time that I've known him, there was so much that I wanted to tell him but now that he's awake and back home, I don't know where to begin. It's comforting to know that he's been sort of watching over me at night and when he told me this morning after I got him home from the hospital that he wants to be the one drying my tears, holding me after one of my nightmares, and all that it terrified me. Yes, he's a much better person than my ex but the idea of seeing someone new is scary. I know my ex is dead, but in my mind it still feels like I'm cheating on him. I can never have a normal relationship with another person; I can never have what you and Sam have. Something inevitably always happens and I'll be alone again."

"That certainly explains quite a bit. Two years was the longest you've been with one single person and the way things fell apart I don't blame you for having that mindset about cheating. Let's face facts though, your ex literally had a whore for everyday of the week; he had enough that he could rotate them out every other week and you still let him drag his worthless ass back to you. I don't know what you ever saw in him though that you stayed in Utah for two years straight. I wish you had come out here a long time ago instead of going out west; maybe you would've met the twins then and you could've seen what a good man was sooner. I don't know what more you could possibly want though: they both have respectable jobs, they don't do drugs, they actually have a decent relationship with their mom, and more importantly they treat you like a real man should. You can't keep pushing people away because you're scared of being left alone again. These guys are trying to make you see that you can trust them and if you can do that then you won't be alone."

"I wish I knew what I wanted." Muttering more to myself as I downed the last of my beer and headed back to the bar to start in on the hard stuff.

* * *

"Ya alright, Murph? Ya don't look quite like yerself."

"All dis fucking shit on da news; kids getting hit in da street when all dey want ta do is play, psychos who don't understand da word 'no,' murdering each other fer no reason. Dere has ta be someone out dere willing ta take a stand against da evil of da world."

"I t'ought dat's what we were doing by taking care of da Russians and da Italians. What yer talking about is on a national scale; dere are people out dere who raise t'eir voices against everyt'ing dat is going on, but no one is willing ta take any action. We _are_ taking action against dose who have wronged da innocent; don't worry, dose people will get what's coming ta 'em and when dat time comes we'll be da ones sending 'em ta whatever God dey wish. Murph, ya keep chewing on dat thumb like dat yer going ta end up biting it off. Dere's somet'ing else eating away at ya, isn't dere?"

"Red's comment about ya getting dessert twice before dinner; ya don't have ta tell me all da details. If it's you she wants den who am I ta stand in da way? I just wish I hadn't told her everyt'ing I did and made a fool of myself."

"It was maybe 15 minutes of oral so don't take it personally. I spent all of 10 minutes with her, she set da timer so it was exactly 10 minutes and den she surprised me while I was in da shower. She said she hated ta hear a grown man suffer. Only Red knows what she wants, and it'll take some time fer her ta figure dat out. Isn't dat why we called her sister ta come up here? So ya can tell her everyt'ing ya've ever wanted ta say ta her and so her sister can help her see dat yer not a lying sack of shit? Ya know what yer problem is? Yer always ready ta just t'row in da towel and walk away before ya know fer a fact what da truth is; da truth scares ya and ya run away like a little bitch."

"If my head wasn't hurting me right now, I'd kick yer sorry ass fer dat. Ya should've seen her while I was still in da hospital; she reminded me a lot of Ma trying ta remind me of da value of patience." Murphy fell into silence, once again staring at the television as the news reporters began to re-cap the top stories of the day. "I can stand side by side with me brudder and put a bullet t'rough some guy's head, but I can't take da fear of rejection. I may as well tell Roc ta set me up with anot'er one of Donna's druggie friends."

"Now dat's just downright stupid, what are ya, fucking retarded? If yer desperate enough ta let Roc set ya up again, den I'm going ta move in on Red and keep her all ta meself; find out all of da kinky t'ings she likes done ta her den rub it in yer face of all dat yer missing out on. Did ya know she's let me tie her up with rope every time she's let me have me way with her?"

"Yer really pushing it, Conn. If dis is yer way of telling me ta be patient and wait ta see what she says, it's not working. Don't ya have somet'ing better ta do den ta piss me off?"

"Me and Roc put everyt'ing on hold while you were in da hospital; just didn't feel right trying ta do it without ya. Might have anot'er one of dose sick fucks on da list. Roc's been out da last week or so watching him. Need ta start coming up with a plan fer when Roc finally decides ta let us in on da details."

"Ya mean come up with a plan dat involves yer fucking rope. What's da deal with you and dat fucking rope, honestly?"

"Happens ta be a very useful t'ing so shut it."

* * *

My sister and I walked back to the dilapidated building from McGinty's with no trouble; one of the regulars was nice enough to walk us half way since he was heading for home anyway. We parted ways when the elevator stopped on the third floor; our plan was for her to go back up to their place and spend the next 4 or 5 hours interrogating Connor much the same way she did with Murphy while I tried to figure out a way to give Murphy my answer without making him more upset than he appeared to be when we left.

"Hey, I'm glad you're still here I need to talk to you about what you said earlier today. Before I do though, thank you for inviting my sister up; we got through a lot more shit then I ever did with Ryan and I don't think I need to pay to see him anymore."

Murphy sat rigid on the couch but never acknowledged my presence. I was hoping that he was just listening to what I was saying rather than ignoring me and tuning me out. I kicked out of my shoes and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a pair of glasses from the cabinet and filling them with water. When I walked into the living room, the t.v. was turned off and Murphy was facing me with one foot on the floor and the other was tucked under his thigh, he had one arm thrown over the back of the couch staring back at me with an unreadable expression. I took a seat next to him and handed the glass over when he silently held out his hand for it; a fingertip brushing against my knuckle so lightly that my senses nearly forgot to register it.

"I've thought about what you said and I was not prepared to give you an answer tonight nor have this as figured out as much as I do. I need you to understand though that I will probably always have my doubts about this because in my mind I feel like I'm cheating on my ex; it's not something that I can get over right away, I may never be able to get over that feeling but I have to accept that he's gone and he's not coming back. He cannot drag me out of Boston by my hair, throw me into that red truck of his, and drive me back to Utah." I paused to finish off the glass of water and set it down on the floor before taking a deep breath to finish what I had started saying. I don't think I have ever been this scared in a long time. My only hope was that I didn't scare him off and he'd run for the hills.

"What you said earlier about wanting something more than just sex really makes me think that you have an ulterior motive; but my sister brought up the fact that you told her that's not what you want from me. She told me that you wanted someone who's not going to put up with your bullshit and wouldn't judge you because of the…activities…you and Connor choose to do outside of work. I am willing to give whatever this is between us a try and see where it leads too. I hate sounding like a broken record or a parrot on constant repeat, but I _really_ need you to understand that what you see is just a front for just how fucked up I really am. I am nowhere near ready to begin disclosing things about my past; maybe one day I will and maybe that day will never come. Only time will tell.

"I don't know what all my sister has told you or what she's about to tell Connor. I do know that I owe you something. Physically, I know it may appear that I'm pretty well stitched together at the seams. Mentally, I think I am beyond help. I've been in at least 3 psych wards since I was ten and the doctors at all three places have it written in my records that I'm clinically insane; guess that's why my ex and I got along as well as we did. I've got at least 30 failed suicide attempts under my belt and the scars from each one to prove it."

I had to stop my current train of thought; I could feel my hands shaking with nervousness and my stomach twisting in on itself. I knew I had to look him in the eye at some point but I just couldn't bring myself to do it, at least not yet anyway. However that did not stop the burning sensation I got from his eyes boring holes into me, almost begging me to keep going. The silence was deafening and the air around us was growing thicker the longer we sat. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Murphy carefully set his glass down on the floor next to his foot and leaned forward to take my hand in his; his thumb gently sweeping over my knuckles. With a deep sigh, I lifted my head up and rolled my shoulders back. Looking him in the eyes, I continued as I tried to carefully find the words I was searching for.

"I need for you to know that I am trying to get better. If it seems like I'm having a shitty day, I need reassurance to know that it's okay to talk about what happened to make the day a shitty one. I'm so used to putting others before myself that I just push everything else off to the side; I need to know that I matter to someone. The thing that really sucks about the human condition is the fact that we need to have reaffirmation; we seek out validation from the minute we're born until the minute we die. Despite hearing positivity from friends and family, I've never had that outside of that small circle.

"My ex never told me he loved me, never randomly paid me a compliment for something I did every day. I never pushed him to say or do anything he was uncomfortable with and I knew that for him to even kiss my cheek in the morning while I was making breakfast was even pushing it; I never ask him to do it, he just did. I'm fucking awkward when it comes to affairs of the heart. I don't know how to take a compliment for anything other than the food I cook. If I'm being completely honest, I don't know what normal means when it comes to relationships. I only had one serious one and what became the norm for me would be deemed as abusive by everyone else."

I could not stand to look at the stoic expression plastered across his face any longer and broke off eye contact and instead tried to focus on the thumb that never ceased its movement across the top of my hand. I suddenly wished I had not finished off that glass of water so quickly as I tried to get rid of the dryness that was quickly taking over my throat.

"When I met you and Connor, the day after the hospital, Charlie and Ryan went with me on a blind date they set me up on. The guy's name was Jack. He wanted someone he could lock away in an ivory tower that would wait on him hand and foot for the rest of their lives. He's the type of person to just throw money around like it was nothing; he chose one of the priciest restaurants in town to eat at and declared that everything was on him. Shortly after we ordered our drinks he made it loud and clear that he was going through a dry spell and couldn't understand why."

I paused my thoughts as I glanced up. He had let out a small laugh or snicker, not sure which one.

"Sorry ta interrupt, is dere a point ta dis?"

"My point is that I can't tell you what it is I want from you because I don't know what I want, no one ever cared enough about me to ask what I wanted. But I do know what I do not want. I don't want to be put up on a pedestal, I don't want someone who's going to be flashing around money like it's nothing, I don't want someone that only thinks about sex, and I don't want someone that only thinks about themselves. Everyone is prone to selfish tendencies, but selfishness should not take over your life to the point where when you're with someone else that you expect them to suffer."

I sat in silence as I waited for him to say something, anything, but he just sat there staring blankly at me. While we were sitting at the bar talking, my sister told me that, per Murphy, he and Connor did "things" outside of work that would be frowned upon by the general public if word ever got out. From my perspective, it couldn't be any worse than the murder I committed in Utah when one of my ex's friends tried to rape me while he was out in the caves making another shipment for his father.

During those late nights when he wouldn't come home until 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning, he made sure I knew where he kept the gun and the knife just in case I needed to use it. It was a secret I would take to the grave with me; I only hoped that what they chose to do outside of work wasn't near as bad as what I have done. Murder was just the tip of the iceberg for me. What they did couldn't be worse than being wanted by the F.B.I. There was a reason why I kept my mouth shut around Rocco especially knowing what I know now about what he does and who he works for: if word ever got out there was a high probability that they'd be knocking on my door looking for a new hit-man for hire…or would it be a hit-woman for hire?

One story in particular that stood out in my mind was about a guy who, in Rocco's words, took out a whole family like he was ordering a pizza. The Saints had gone to his house and took him out as well as everyone that was inside the shed playing poker. Knowing that Rocco works for the Italians meant he was bound to know something when one of them got bumped off. The fact that he was able to go into so much meticulous detail about how the hit went down had my suspicions raised. There were questions I wanted to ask, but who knows what might have happened to me had I done that. The one at the forefront of my mind was how he knew the main target was taken out with a billiard ball, how he knew two of them were under the pool table, how he ended up with that lump on his arm around the same time this all took place. He had come over to my place not long after that guy had been done away with and was complaining that his arm was hurting; he claimed it was a spider bite that swelled up. I could only offer him some Benadryl and an ice pack since I wasn't able to find the bites.

If the stories that Rocco had told us while we sat in McGinty's about the hit-men that work for his boss were true I'd have to do more than keep my name and face out of the public eye as much as possible. I would also have to keep a sharper ear out for anything that may resemble my former life in Utah. Even though I would never tell either Connor or Murphy the truth, I had moved to Boston when whispers started springing up that some rather lucrative people in Chicago had wanted to start arming themselves to the teeth when stories of The Saints started making national headlines. These people in Chicago had figured that if they hired women as hit-men then The Saints were less likely to take them out since everyone that had been confirmed as a Saints hit were men with rap sheets ten miles wide. Worst case scenario, I would get out Boston as quickly and quietly as possible.

There is no such thing as the word 'no' in any mafia. You either do what you're told or you die. They cannot kill you if they cannot find you. Now was the time to start planning my exit out of town should the need arise.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Carefully, I extracted my hand from Murphy's grasp. For a moment he continued to stare at me, only blinking occasionally as the stoicism etched across his features remained in place. I sat on the couch across from him allowing my head to hang low and my gaze focused on the fingers that were playing with the ring that I always wore waiting for Murphy to give a hint of answer to what I told him. I was beginning to second guess myself, feeling more than defeated as well as embarrassed. When I could no longer sit by and allow him to continue his relentless staring contest with the top of my head, I got up from my seat and headed out to the fire escape. Maybe a blast of that cold March air would get me to feel something.

I opened the window, listening to it squeak along its track, then closed it again to prevent the cats from getting out. Allowing my arms to dangle over the railing I turned my overwhelming thoughts to the brick wall just across the alley focusing on a set of bricks in which the mortar was clearly cracked and breaking away. I continued to stare at the structure watching a rather large insect of some kind burrow itself into the bricks, trying to escape the nipping cold air when I heard the window squeak open and close once again on its worn out track. My gaze never wavered as another blast of cold air brought Murphy's familiar scent to my nostrils.

"T'ought ya might be cold."

Breaking my focus on the wall for the first time in what seemed like hours, I watched from the corner of my eye with careful scrutiny as he brought his arms out and lifted my sweater onto my shoulders. I shrugged my arms in through the holes and returned my focus back to the brick wall. In all the time that I have been out here, I have not been able to feel much of anything on the outside. Internally, I could not help but feel like I had made a complete fool of myself. With the heavy silence that surrounded us after I had wrapped up my final thoughts I somehow felt that perhaps between what I told him and whatever else that my sister added earlier in the day that it was all too much for him to handle. Why would he, or Connor for that matter, want to stick around knowing that I am a psych patient, that I am off my meds, and that at any point in time I could have another relapse with my suicidal thoughts. Why would either of them choose to be around a budding alcoholic who would do nothing but spew out angry, hurtful words because she hears voices telling her she's worthless.

"What are ya t'inking about?"

"Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing."

" _Phantom of the Opera_. Are ya upset dat I didn't say anyt'ing after what ya told me inside?"

"Yes and no, but it's not you that I'm upset with; it's with myself. I'm not used to being that open with anybody. Like everyone else, I have my fair share of problems and then some but what has me the most upset is the fact that I can't figure out what to say to you that wouldn't have you or Connor running for the hills."

"Let's go inside and talk, it is 20-somet'ing degrees and yer out here in a tank top, sweater, and fleece penguin pants. Might I also add dat ya walked out barefoot and yer standing on a sheet of ice."

Oops, didn't think about shoes before I came out here; oh well better hope I don't get pneumonia. I allowed Murphy to place his hands on my shoulders to gently draw me away from the rusted metal railing that was threatening to break away from the wall it was attached to any given moment and lead me back inside. I had to shoo the cats away from the window so they wouldn't get out but once Murphy had me seated back on the couch he busied himself briefly by picking our forgotten glasses up from the floor and walking them into the kitchen. The heater was set to 70 so I decided to shed my sweater before Murphy returned, draping it over my frozen feet.

When he returned to the living room, he carried in with him a pair of coffee cups, the aroma of peppermint rising with the steam had a calming effect; something we both needed before proceeding with anything. Handing me one of the cups, he took a seat across from me; the silence between us caused the tension to ratchet up a notch or two but remembering that I was holding a cup in my hands I took a sip hoping that an action on my part may cause the words that we are both carefully contemplating to come out as a cohesive thought rather than word vomit.

"T'ought about what ya said earlier; about what ya need and not knowing what ya want. You have all da time in da world ta figure out what ya want and we can help ya figure it out as t'ings go on. But, I need ya ta know what I need from ya. Not gonna sit here and rattle off a list but ya need ta know dat both me and Connor are on a learning curve. We're both bound ta fuck up and yer no exception ta dat. If ya feel like somet'ing is getting ta be too much fer ya, tell us. You know us well enough by now ta know dat we love to tease folks but sometimes we don't know when ta stop. Before ya go and blow yer top, give us a fair warning. Also need ya ta know dat I intend on sticking around fer a while. I don't plan on leaving ya in da foreseeable future so I need ya ta get dat t'ought out of yer head."

"I don't know if I could ever get that out of my head."

"But ya need to. I get dat yer afraid dat you'll wake up one day and neither of us may not be dere fer one reason or anot'er but ya can't let yer fears take control of yer life. You can tell us anyt'ing ya want, it'll take a lot more den words ta have us running. C'mon, let me inside dat head of yers. I know it's hard fer ya ta trust someone with all of dat information ya just shared but knowing what I know now about ya is gonna help all t'ree of us in da long run. Before, when ya had dat distant look in yer eyes, we t'ought you were just lost in yer t'oughts. But now when ya get dat look we'll know ta ask, we'll know dat somet'ing's not right."

"Why are you trying so hard to fix me?"

"Because yer worth fixing; yer allowed ta hurt, yer allowed ta feel t'ings, yer allowed ta be human. Ya can't let all of da negative t'ings consume yer entire being. We can't help ya until you open yerself up enough to let us. Me and Connor both worry about ya sometimes, wondering if ya even know what it's like ta feel somet'ing ot'er den pain."

I allowed Murphy's words to sink in. Again, I wanted to choose my words carefully before speaking. This was all foreign territory for me and I had to tread carefully if I wanted something more with either of the twins or both of them. I had my doubts about this entire thing that Murphy was proposing. I have also been the type of person who prefers things in black and white, I don't like the unknown. As these thoughts started taking up residence in my mind, I couldn't help but to start chewing at the interior of my lips. It was something I did out of habit when I started getting nervous. Apparently Murphy picked up on my nervous energy and he was making an attempt to put an end to it.

"Look at me," he made sure I gave him my full attention before pressing on, "ya don't have ta be scared. I know it's a hard decision, but I can promise ya t'ings can and will get better fer ya if let us in."

"What happens then? What happens if I let you in? What happens if I tell either of you something about my past, what will you do?"

"Ya just have ta trust it. I won't t'ink any different of ya fer telling me what you've got on yer mind. I may be shocked or surprised by what ya may tell me, but I won't t'ink anyt'ing different of ya."

He took a hold of my left hand, rubbing the pad of his thumb over my ring, tracing the intricate knots that formed the trinity before sweeping the digit across the tops of my knuckles once again. Focusing my attention on the movement, I let his words take over the spaces inside my mind that started to free themselves from my selfishness. If there was such a thing as an emotional polar plunge, then I was about to jump in feet first.

"Okay, I will try but I can't promise anything."

I felt his arms wrap around my shoulders pulling me towards him into a warm embrace. This was far from the reaction that I had expected. Though I did not set my expectations too high, I had already started mentally preparing myself for him to just walk out the door at any moment.

"Dat's all I've been wanting ta hear fer a while now. I promise I won't let ya down."

"It's not nice to make promises you can't keep. Everyone gets let down by somebody; if you are going to make a promise to me, I want you to promise that you'll come to me if something's bugging you. I don't want you to hide it because then you'll dwell on it until it comes out as anger. Much like right now, there's something else that you have on your mind; I can see it in your eyes. You don't have to tell me what it is right this minute, but I'll be here when you are ready. And another thing, if you want me to stop sleeping with Connor, I will. I won't ask you to do anything in the bedroom that you don't feel comfortable with, but I'm sure you've heard Connor bragging about the things that I like done to me. We don't have to get into that right now though, just thought you should know."

"Connor and I are pretty good at sharing; he seems ta be a little more inta da kinky stuff den I am. Dat's not to say dat I'm averse ta trying new t'ings, I'm just not as adventurous as he is. I can't begin ta tell ya how nervous I've been waiting fer ya ta tell me what ya t'ought about everyt'ing I said dis morning. I just hate not knowing how someone is gonna react when I tell 'em somet'ing. Plus all dis shit on da news tonight with da kidnapping, da murders, and kids being hit by cars in broad daylight. Da world's gone ta shit and dere's not'ing anyone can do ta stop it so we try ta find people we can lean on who bring in small rays of light ta dispel da darkness."

"No offense, I think you're getting just a little bit too religious with that kind of talk. I'm not disagreeing with what you're saying, I fully agree actually, but if you're going to go around preaching to the masses of Boston on a soapbox about loving your fellow man and to stop killing each other then I'm afraid you're not going to get anywhere. Tell you what though, any time I hear another story on the news about those Saints, it makes me feel a little bit better. It may sound wrong because the reality of it is, is that they are committing murder, but evil men like the ones they've been doing in deserve what they have coming to them. It's not right that all they get is a slap on the wrist; 24 hours in jail, then get out on bail only to do the same things over and over again. If I knew them personally, I'd give them a list of names a mile wide of people they could kill. Sorry, I'm rambling now; how about I get you that dessert I promised you when I got back?"

"I t'ink I'll wait until later tonight when yer sister gets back. She's a bit of a bitch in my opinion and I t'ink hearing her sister getting laid is enough ta knock her down off of dat high horse of hers. It always works on Connor, so we'll see if it works on yer sister."

"She is a bitch, but I'm Queen Bitch. I kind of took that crown from our mom back when I was 11 and have worn it ever since. If she's trying to steal it from me, she's going to have to put some effort into her interrogation techniques while she's upstairs with Connor. Since you want to put off sexy times until later tonight, what do you want to do? I've got movies we can watch or ice cream in the freezer so you can have a real dessert…" I was cut off when he pushed me back onto the couch and pressed his lips to mine. It wasn't forceful, but rather sweet? Kind of reminded me of that kiss he gave me in the car that day he had his accident: passionate, deep, meaningful, and dare I say breath-taking. What have I just gotten myself into?

* * *

"I already had this long conversation with your brother and I'm going to be spending the next couple of hours having this same conversation with you. I get it that you just off work a little while ago and you're probably tired but I need to know what your intentions are with my sister. She might be two years older than me, but I've seen her suffer too much to watch her fall apart all over again because of another person who calls himself a man.

"When her ex died and she finally came home, she committed herself to a mental ward because she couldn't handle the fact that he was gone, at least that's the story she told us. She told me once while I sat with her at visitation day that she wanted to just end it all; that perhaps this world would be better off without her. I told her she was full of shit for thinking like that. Any time she starts feeling defeated or beat down these demons that she's been carrying around for years start rearing their ugly heads. She claims to hear voices telling her to kill herself, that no one would ever love her, that she will never be worth anyone's time and the time she is worth will only last until she has served her purpose then she'll be tossed to the side once again.

"She has the ability to love several people unconditionally no matter what their transgressions are. Granted, you've probably heard some of the stories about her ex from her friend Charlie, but what you probably never heard was that he was a murderer, heavily involved in drugs; I'm talking making, taking, and dealing, rape, kidnapping. The list goes on forever, but my point is he was the scum of the earth and she loved him because she was able to see past all of that. She was able to see someone buried underneath years of hurt and betrayal, she was able to keep him off the ledge when his father would lay into him about being behind on a shipment; she kept him somewhat sane until his brother came back to town and everything happened that led to his death.

"I need you to be straight-forward with me right now about what it is exactly you want out of my sister. If you just want someone you can fuck, that's fine; just don't use any words or phrases that might have her thinking you've got feelings for her. If you want something more than that, like what your brother wants, then you need to tell her that. It doesn't have to be right this minute, but you need to tell her soon. She surprised me tonight when she told me that she's made up her mind about Murphy; she's downstairs telling him now."

"I already told her everyt'ing I have ta say, but if you want me ta give ya da shortened version, I will. I pretty much told her dat I want da same chance dat she's giving Murph; I want somet'ing dat's more den just sex. Yer sister is an enigma dat I want ta try ta figure out. I probably never will be able ta accomplish dat in dis life, but dat won't stop me from trying. Murph and I may be twins and we've done an awful lot of sharing in our time, but we are not da same person. He wears his heart on his sleeve and his biggest issue right now when it comes to yer sister is his constant fear of rejection. He mistakes her silence as an automatic rejection and he starts shutting down. I'm da complete opposite; I'm pretty direct with yer sister about what I want and how I feel. My issue is dat I care too much about me brudder ta let him get hurt; I don't want ta see yer sister break his heart."

"And I don't want to see either of you break hers; know this though, if you do I'm coming back here to hunt you down, drag you both back to St. Louis, and we'll be having ourselves a family reunion while everyone has a turn at beating your asses. Though I still have my suspicions, I guess we can get started on your background. I don't want to hear a rehearsed story about how your dad left when you were a year old and your mom raised you all on her own. I don't want to hear about why you came state-side or how you ended up in a pretty shitty living situation like this. I want you to tell me about you. I want you to tell me everything that makes you Connor MacManus; tell me why you think you're man enough for my sister."

"Actions speak louder den words; I'm not gonna sit here and let you lecture me on da dos and don'ts of dating and relationships. Only t'ing you need ta know is dat I'm a much better man den her ex ever was. If she pisses me off, I'm not gonna haul off and hit her; if she's hurting, I'm gonna find out why and do what I can ta make da pain go away. If I want ta spend some time with her, just da two of us, she gets ta pick. More often den not she tells me ta pick or she'll ask if we can just stay in."

"I'm not trying to lecture you, I'm trying to give you some insight and some much needed information about my sister so you're less likely to fuck up and come off as a dick. She told me about the day you found out that she was talking with your mom and how you went nuts over it. She knew you were not in your right frame of mind the day everything happened and was still having trouble accepting the fact that your brother was in the hospital even after he woke up. Stressful situations like that are the reason why she chooses to bite her tongue and say nothing and also the reason why she will threaten you with bodily injury.

"My sister is doing the best she can under the circumstances to keep her anger in check but the two you going around assuming things rather than talking with her is not making things any better on her. You are one hundred percent right that actions speak louder than words but right now she needs to verbally hear what it is you want from her. I want you to let this sink in for a while: she doesn't want to see anybody new, regardless of it's you, your brother, both of you, or someone else because she has it in her mind that she's cheating on her ex."

"But he's dead, how can she t'ink dat she's cheating on him when he's dead?"

"Ask her and find out for yourself, it's not my place to say. Can I ask, is there anything significant that stands out in your mind that makes you want to get to know my sister better? You said you two have spent time together alone, has she said anything that maybe brought questions to your mind and just never asked?"

"I'm sure ya heard all about Murph's extended stay in da hospital-"

"Actually, she never mentioned any of it to me. The first I heard about from her was tonight at the bar. Told me there was a lot she wanted to tell your brother while he was out and being home now she doesn't know where to begin. She also told me how childish you were acting the entire time too. I'm not a mind-reader so I don't know what she wanted to tell him or if she'll even start."

"Long story short da person I was talking about during dinner, Rosie, hit him in da back of da head after he started cracking jokes. Boss called me after it happened and I ran down da stairs hoping I caught her before she left fer work. She drove me up ta work and den to da hospital. She kept a lot of us dat care about dat dumbass from losing it completely; even bailed me out of jail. I can tell ya with a fair degree of certainty dat of all da women I've dated dat she's da one who has given me what I wanted more den da o'hers ever have. I'm not talking just about sex, even t'ough she does let me do anyt'ing I want ta her. I'm not me brudder, I don't talk about me feelings or shit like dat but somehow yer sister knows when I need or want somet'ing without having ta ask. When it's just da two of us, we hang out and drink.

"Last time I had spent any time with her was da day before Murph's accident. She came up here, we watched a movie fer a bit before she started twisting her face around. Found out her back was giving her problems; gave her a back rub and somet'ing I don't t'ink she'll ferget about any time soon."

"She's always been the type of person who would prefer to stay in and watch movies. She's also always been the kind of person who will give everyone else her full attention and put their wants and needs ahead of her own. The reason she knows when someone wants or needs something without them having to ask is because she's able to read body language and can recognize the look in a person's eyes when something is off. My sister also has wants and needs but she needs to be reminded that she needs to take care of herself as well. I'm not talking about just physically or sexually, I have seen the contents of her pantry as well as closet and night stand to know that she can take care of those aspects of her life on her own. I'm talking about mentally and emotionally, she needs to be reminded; based on what you just told me about her taking care of you while Murphy was laid up tells me that no one has once told her to take a break or anything similar. I saw the look in her eyes when she was up here earlier and she is running on fumes. She is mentally and emotionally exhausted."

"And I'm not? Da fuck do you expect me ta do about it?"

"If you cared even an ounce about her overall well-being, I would expect you to tell her thank you every once in a while as opposed to the one time I heard about. I would expect you to fill that empty sack between your legs with a pair of balls and tell her to go home and try to sleep instead of being selfish and landing yourself in jail, asking her to use what little money she has to bail you out. I would expect you to leave her alone if all you want from her is sex."

"Already told ya, I want more from her den just sex. Been with enough women ta know how ta take care of dem physically, sexually, mentally, and emotionally-"

"You have never been with the likes of anyone like my sister. She is not like any normal woman you have been with before. She is not a normal woman at all and you need to stop comparing her to all the others you've had before. You keep saying you want more than just sex, so tell me what is it that you do want? I'm going to have another heart to heart with her in the morning and whether you like it or not, I'm telling her word for word what you're telling me."

"Don't have ta give ya fucking reasons or explanations fer dat matter. I know what I want from yer sister and she knows what I want from her dat's all dat fucking matters. Whether ya like it or not I intend on sticking around fer a while and does Murph. I'm not fucking blind, I know dat she needs a break from everyt'ing dat's going on, I know she's exhausted, and I know she's tired of watching ta make sure I stay out of trouble. Me hearing was last week and da charges were dropped but she wants ta make sure it doesn't happen again."

"I think you're lying to me; I don't think you've told my sister anything that you're feeling either because you have no feelings for her and think this all just some sort of game or you're too scared to admit how you feel about her because you have a hidden fear of rejection. You strike me as the kind of person who doesn't like to hear 'no' and will pull out all of the Irish charm that you can muster in order to trick the person into saying 'yes.' Overall, as a man? Your brother is the definition of a man, but you are a self-centered, selfish child who enjoys playing games with women. If I had my way, I would make sure that you never go anywhere near my sister again. I don't care how great the sex is or that she's able to let her kinky side out when she's around you. However, I do care if the man she is with is someone that can not only put up with her fears and insecurities, but I care that if said man is able to build her confidence and self-esteem up without letting her down in the end. Your brother is capable of doing all of that for her and more; you will never be able to accomplish that, at least not with my sister. You are a user."

"Are ya fucking done emasculating me now?"

"For the time being."

"Good, den you can just shut yer fucking trap and listen. I admit I was being selfish when Murph was laid up; never should've put yer sister t'rough as much as I did but da damage is already done and I can't take dat back. Probably should've told her t'anks more den just da one time, probably should've told her ta go home instead of getting drunk every fucking night. Dere's probably a lot I should've done but I didn't. She understood dat I wasn't alright and when I got ta be too much she made sure ta handle it appropriately.

"I was pissed when Ma called asking fer an update, asked her how da fuck she even knew somet'ing had happened and Ma told me dat da two of 'em had been talking; but I was grateful dat she even t'ought ta call Ma since dat one never crossed me mind. Ma gave her da okay ta slap me around as necessary and trust me, yer sister took full advantage of dat one. First time she hit me, kinda shocked da hell out of me. Ma got one hell of a laugh out of it and told me dat she hopes it keeps up; dat we both need someone who's not afraid ta slap us around a bit.

"I know it seems like I have a tendency ta fly off da handle and it's not somet'ing dat I mean ta do. I let me anger get da best of me, but dat doesn't mean I'm not sorry fer letting it happen. When I do fuck up yer sister makes sure ta put me back in my place and lets me know dat she's not gonna put up with it."

Connor paused momentarily, getting up from his chair and walking over to the fridge to pull a couple of beers out. Crossing back over to the rickety table he set both down, popping the top on his before picking up the nearly empty cigarette pack to fish out one of the last few remaining. Carelessly dropping the pack back on to the table, he swiftly picked the lighter up before dropping that on the surface of the table as well. Connor watched Red's sister carefully to see if she had anything she wanted to comment on while he took a moment to gather his thoughts.

He did not appreciate being verbally attacked in his own home but did appreciate the fact that Red's little sister was looking out for her. Even though their Ma would never tell them who was born first, Connor took on the role as older brother in almost every aspect of his and Murphy's lives. He had played the protector when Murphy's first girlfriend had shattered his heart when she told him that she only agreed to go out with him just so she could get closer to Connor. He had played the savior when the Russians hand-cuffed him to the toilet and were threatening to shoot his brother in the head out in the alley. Now he was playing the defender as he tried to fend off the accusations that flew at him. Connor knew he was lying when he said he had already told Red what he wanted; as the type of person who liked to plan things out, Connor wanted to take his time in making sure everything was to his standards when he did tell her, he wanted everything to just fall into place like a well thought out plan should which included the right words to say.

"Even t'ough it may not seem like it, I do care about yer sister. She's da type of person who would rather say somet'ing ta someone in a one on one instead of telling multiple people. She knows da two of us well enough by now ta know dat if she tells one of somet'ing dat we'll tell da ot'er. With everyt'ing dat's been going on lately, I never had da chance ta tell Murph what she told me da night we had our last one on one."

"What did she say?"

"We were sitting on da couch watching _Pale Rider_ when she started squirming around. Her back was bothering her so I offered to help get rid of da kinks; never planned on it going as far as it did. Doesn't feel right telling ya what she said since it was so personal but da gist of it was dat she didn't know whether or not ta t'ank me fer da back rub or ta sleep with me. Asked her what da fuck she was talking about, told me dat anyt'ing her ex did fer her had ta be repaid in some form or anot'er.

"I did somet'ing fer her because I wanted to, not ta gain somet'ing in return. Dat was when I knew she needed da both of us. She needs Murph ta show her dat it's okay ta let her emotions out every now and again. She needs me ta let her know dat it's okay ta have someone do somet'ing fer ya without having ta do somet'ing fer 'em in return. Da back rub and what followed after, I did dat because I wanted to, I wasn't looking ta have anyt'ing done in return."

"Now you're starting to understand just how deeply her ex screwed her up. The type of people she's been involved with since his death are the kind of people who deserve to be shot to death. My sister does not deserve to be mixed up in all of that nor does she deserve to be treated as an object for anyone's amusement. Connor to be completely honest, you are still on my shit list. What I need from you when it comes down to what's in my sister's best interest is to continue showing her those small random acts of kindness and to teach her that not everything that is done for her is only to gain something in return."

"I make no promises, but I'll do what I can."

"Good, now what's this I hear that you two don't know who was born first?"

* * *

I had gotten up from the couch at least once to keep from fidgeting around too much. When I came back Murphy was outside on the fire escape smoking a cigarette, with his back to the window I couldn't help but stare. I continued to let his words sink further into my mind and I came to realize how right he actually was. I _was_ allowing my fears to take over my life. Even though his back was to me and there was a thin wall of glass separating us he appeared to be in deep concentration. Maybe it was my turn to find out what was going through his head. After a brief search for a pair of shoes, my sweater, and a warm blanket I climbed outside onto the fire escape.

"Getting cold out here, thought you may need something warmer than a long-sleeved shirt." I told him, draping the blanket over his shoulders.

"Not dat bad out here, but t'anks."

"Guess you're just used to that cold Irish weather, huh?"

"Nah, just used ta not having a working furnace. Ya get used to it t'ough, I guess. What are you doing back out here?"

There was no hint of anger in his voice, but perhaps there was a bit of sadness behind it. I wasn't entirely sure why I was out here myself but I had a lingering question that I needed answered.

"Wanted to make sure you're alright. Today was a pretty big day for the both us emotionally and I wanted to make sure that you're alright with everything I told you."

Again, I waited for him to say something. Instead what I got was him turning on the spot, his arms reaching around him to take the blanket off his shoulders and placing it on mine, drawing me closer to him. His arms held the blanket where it was as he rested his chin on the top of my head; almost too naturally, my arms wrapped themselves around his waist. I had no idea how long we stayed like this but for the first time in a long time I felt like I belonged to someone.

"I'm alright if yer alright."

"Liar. You wouldn't have been standing out here for the last half hour if you were. Try again."

"And you wouldn't have timed how long I've been out here. Need some time ta meself ta t'ink t'ings t'rough."

"Figure out what you needed to?"

The question was not meant to set Murphy up for a specific answer; I wasn't fishing for one. It was more my curiosity eating away at me once again.

"Fer da most part; can't tell ya much of anyt'ing fer certain at da moment but all ya really need ta know fer now is dat I meant what I said: I don't plan on leaving in da foreseeable future. All I'm asking ya ta do is try. Ya don't have ta open da floodgates all at once and ya only have ta say what you feel comfortable saying. C'mon back inside before ya catch yer death."

We climbed back inside where we were greeted by the cats and a functioning furnace much to my delight. We seated ourselves back on the couch trying to figure out something to do since my sister had only been upstairs with Connor for about an hour or so. Eventually we settled on a couple of movies, one of my choice and one of his. I caved and put in _Powder_ ; I could never get enough of watching that movie no matter how many times it still made me cry. I think Murphy was a bit shocked to see me cry actual tears that did not stem from a series of nightmares. When it was over, I promised that we could watch whatever movie he wanted to watch next or if he wanted to take his chances at playing strip twister. For some odd reason, it was in a box that I packed up when I was in the process of moving to Boston and just kept forgetting to put in the donation bins. Again, he decided to forego anything that may go beyond that kiss and instead rummaged through my movie collection to find something that was more up to par with what he enjoyed watching. Needless to say, I was more than surprised that of all the movies I owned, he retrieved an old Cary Grant movie from 1944: _Arsenic and Old Lace._

While the commercials were playing, Murphy was nice enough to pick our long forgotten coffee cups up off of the floor and walked both ours into the kitchen. After hearing a few dishes clattering around in the cabinets things kind of quieted down to the point that I was about ready to find out what it was that Murphy was up to in there. Before I could think to ask the question, his outstretched arm came to rest on my left shoulder and in his hand was a large bowl of ice cream that I had alluded to having earlier. He appeared in my line of vision shortly after I removed the bowl from his hand stating that he loved how childish it was that I not only had chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and cherries but also had sprinkles.

"You don't think they killed each other, do you? I mean they're both pretty hard-headed people and it could turn into a disaster if they find something they disagree about." I asked after climbing back inside, tossing the blanket onto the couch and making my way to the door to kick my shoes off and hang my sweater up. I came back to the couch to pick our bowls up off the cushion, walking them into the kitchen and placing them in the sink to soak.

I had decided to go outside one last time after Murphy's movie of choice was over. I just needed a few more minutes to myself to think things through. Even though I was mostly okay with building something with Murphy my mind would not let go of the fact that Connor was still very much a part of this equation regardless of whether or not he wanted something more from me than what he was currently getting. These twins are a packaged deal, you get one and you end up with both and I wanted to make sure everyone was in a mutual agreement.

Before he could respond, a knock came at the door and I jumped up to see who it was. I was relieved to see my sister on the other side of the door and quickly moved to grab her arm to drag her inside when I felt myself being tugged by my left hand and being thrown over Murphy's shoulder. She laughed at the shock that was painted across my face, shut the door behind her, and threw the chain into place.

"No matter what you hear, do not open this door; you may end up seeing some things you never wish you had. This is pay back for what you and Sam put me through when I slept on your couch that night we all got shit-faced on your birthday."

"Don't worry, I won't. Let's hope your screaming can't pierce through headphones. If you don't mind though, I'm going to use your shower. I smell like cigarettes and booze; it's nauseating."

I smiled inwardly because she was going to be in for quite a surprise when the water came out colder than hell. She also had no idea what she just got herself into when she agreed to sleep on the couch considering the back of it was butted up against the bedroom. When Murphy finally set me down on my feet, I made sure that the door was double-locked; I had installed a sliding bolt the day I moved in for a little added security and only used it when I wanted to shut the world out after a crap-tastic day. I turned around to find Murphy lying across my bed with his shirt thrown on the floor and his belt already unbuckled.

"Are you waiting for something?"

"Been waiting for my dessert for da past four hours. How about ya bring yerself on over and give me what I want."

"I could do that, but I won't. If you want something, you come here and get it. Besides, it's your own fault you chose to wait as long as you did when I offered it to you when I got back from the bar earlier tonight." I stated with a devious smile spreading across my face as I felt the temperature in the room begin to rise.

I heard the growl echoing throughout the room and waited with my back to the door, watching him look at me like I was prey. He all but leapt from the bed rushing towards the door, bringing his arms out to cage me in. I love being able to push his buttons to see how far he's willing to dig into his more animalistic, primal instincts. He reached one hand out, grabbing the rubber band that held my hair back and slowly began to drag it out, making sure I felt his fingertips brush against the back of my neck. When it was about half way down, he moved to bury his face into my neck, the tip of his nose lightly brushing against the flesh behind my ear and inhaling. His hand continued to draw my hair over his shoulder so the outside world couldn't see what he was doing to me.

"I _want_ my dessert, and I want it _now_. Get yer ass in dat bed; ya won't like it if I have ta do it fer ya."

"No."

 _I apologize for not having updated this the past couple of weeks, however this is one chapter that did not want to get written so kudos to Valerie E. Mackin for helping to unclog my writer's block. I also have a niece on the way in the next couple of days so I had to help get her nursery finished up. Hope you all enjoy and as always feel free to comment or leave a review in the pretty little box below and if you have any suggestions, please PM me._


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

When I failed to do as I was told, I felt one of his hands skate across my stomach before pushing past the hemline of my pants and his fingers gliding over my clit. I shuddered more than I had intended too when he began sliding first one finger, then two inside of me. I could feel him grinning against my neck; he knew the affect that he was having on me and I was powerless to fight back, not that I would want to in the first place. Just as he was about to send me into my first orgasm on the eve of a new day, he withdrew his hand altogether and replaced it on the door next to my head.

"Are ya gonna get in dat bed now, or do I have ta pull out all da stops?"

"Do your worst."

He quickly scooped me up and threw me over his shoulder once again and dropped me unceremoniously onto the bed before making his way over to the closet, pulling on the cord to illuminate the tiny room of pleasures. I had things that stretched the entire gambit: from normal items like vibrators, dildos, and games to bondage items like whips, handcuffs, and ropes. I had a couple of different sets of swings; one that would hang from the ceiling, the other could be placed inside the door jam. One of the things that Charlie had given me kind of as a joke was a pair of black panties with a remote controlled vibrating bullet. He made sure to let me know that it was for that special guy if I ever found one. Neither Connor nor Murphy has to know those existed just yet.

"You are a kinky one, aren't ya?" He was rummaging through the closet, pushing things from one end of the shelves to the other, digging through a couple of different boxes, including the box of ropes that Connor has grown particularly fond of.

"Before you start spreading your wings and venture into uncharted territory there, Casanova, why don't you come back over here and use what's in the drawer first. It's less intimidating and can still get the job done just as well."

"Said I wasn't dat adventurous, never said I didn't know what I was doing. I t'ink dis'll be as good a place ta start as any, what do you t'ink?" he asked as he pulled a pair of satin wrist restraints and a spreader bar from some dark, hidden corner of the closet. One look in his eyes and I knew I was going to be in for a long night of trouble.

"Or you could start by helping me get out these clothes; that bar will be useless otherwise."

"Now see, because ya didn't want ta behave like a good lass and do what I told ya ta do da first time, I t'ink I'm going ta have ta teach you a lesson in listening. We're gonna start with da shirt and go from dere. Disobedience is not an option tonight." He added, grabbing something else from the top shelf and hiding it behind his back before pulling the string once again to shut the light off. I knew the contents of my closet like the back of my hand and knew that he made a grab for the riding crop; it was one of the many things that I had received in the mail through my side job but I wasn't about to tell him that.

"What happens if I refuse to listen at any point during the night?"

"Haven't quite decided yet, but I'll t'ink of somet'ing."

"Better think of something quick otherwise I'll just continue being the bad girl I am."

"How about dis: no listening, no orgasm fer you at all."

"So let me get this straight, if at any time I don't listen to you, you're going to rob me of the orgasm that you caused? You forget so quickly that I don't need you to get myself off, I am still more than capable of finishing the job myself."

"Fine den, how about I just leave ya panting fer more? Get ya all hot and bothered den just stop right in da middle of it all and go back upstairs."

"You do remember what happened the last time you tried that, right?" I asked, quirking a brow.

I couldn't help the smirk that spread across my lips because there was no way in hell he could not finish what he started; the first and last time he tried that was when he had me bent over the kitchen table and I told him to go hard or go home. He ended up going home then came running back after what he claimed was an excruciating 10 minutes. It was the reason why the table was now off balance and the leg was being held up by a stack of phonebooks.

"Dere's no way of winning, is dere?" he sighed, clearly frustrated and tossing the wrist restraints onto the night stand

"Where there's a will, there's a way. You just have to be a little more creative, that's all. Just be your normal, impulsive self and I can guarantee you will think of a suitable punishment."

"On yer knees and lose da shirt." He said producing the riding crop that had been behind his back. He let the leather crack against my legs and whipped it towards the ground in front of him. If this was the game that he wanted to play tonight then I couldn't wait to see what he had in store for me as the night wore on.

As much as I love being a gluten for punishment when it comes to bad bedroom behavior, I had to be up when the alarm goes off at 6:00 am and it was already 12:36. I did as I was told and took my tank top off and slid down to the floor on my knees, glancing back up at him waiting for further instruction. I watched as he placed the riding crop under his arm and began fumbling with the button on his jeans, his face growing slightly red in color as his frustrations were mounting. Without being told to do anything, I reached up and brushed his hands away. Even though he made it clear that he wanted all of the control tonight, he was out of his element when it came down to communicating what he wanted.

"I didn't say ya could do dat, matter of fact, I didn't say ya could do anyt'ing." He took ahold of both of my wrists in one of his hands, holding them hostage above my head and reached over to the bedside table to grab the pair of satin wrist restraints he had set down just a minute ago.

"I know, but it looked like you could use a little extra help getting out of those tight-fitting jeans. Is this part one of my punishment for not listening to you?"

"Sure is and when I do let ya go, ya had better have dese jeans off, boxers down, and cock in yer mouth in record time or else I'll be forced ta use dis on ya more den ya ever t'ought possible. Understand?" he asked, taking the riding crop from under his arm and pressing the leather against my cheek.

I felt the grin spread across my face and my eyes light up at the endless possibilities that began running through my mind. I nodded eagerly, biting my lip in a vain effort to contain my excitement. When he finally released my newly bound wrists I made every attempt I could to ensure that not only was I meeting his requests but also to make sure that I got the kind of punishment that I wanted. I was quick to drop the jeans and the boxers but took my time when I finally had his cock free. Taking him in my hand, I started out with slow, lazy strokes carefully watching his face as it changed with my movements.

"Why don't ya give him a kiss? I promise he won't bite."

It was more of a command than a suggestion, but I did as I was told; pressing my lips together I gave him a kiss then started the slow, calculated process towards taking him fully into my mouth. I watched as his head started falling backwards becoming lost in the sensations that I was causing him. He nearly lost it when I finally able to fully take in everything he had and began humming around him. The riding crop fell out his grasp as he ran his fingers through my hair, gathering it up to keep my head still while he slowly thrusted his hips back and forth, dragging himself along my tongue. While his eyes were closed, I brought a hand up to begin playing with his balls; he groaned and his thrusts began to pick up speed the more comfortable he got. When I was sure that he wouldn't be opening his eyes again anytime soon, I slipped my free hand inside the waistband of my pants and allowed myself to feel the moisture that had built up and leaked out during the last half hour of this game that had he created.

My attention was brought back to him when he stilled his movements altogether, holding my head in place as everything that he had been holding in was released. When he was finished, I pulled one of his hands that had been buried in my hair out and wrapped it around my throat; I wanted him to feel the muscles in my throat moving as I swallowed. His cock was still pulsating as it started to soften in my mouth before he slowly dragged himself out.

"Dat…was…" he started as he side-stepped me and flopped down onto the bed.

"I'm glad you enjoyed that, but if I remember correctly you're the one running the show tonight so I hope that didn't wear you out too much."

"We're just getting started, by da time I'm done with ya you'll only get half an hour's worth of sleep and you'll be screaming my name rather den listening to dat annoying alarm go off."

"It's not nice to make promises you don't intend on keeping." I reminded him, getting up off the floor and sitting on the bed next to him. I leaned back and rested my hands behind me ensuring that the satin that covered my left wrist brushed against his shoulder.

After a minute or two of silence he got up from the bed and picked up the neglected riding crop and spreader bar that spelled out part two of my punishment. I stopped him before he could buckle the ankle restraints that were attached to the bar and reached over to the bedside table pulling out the appropriate chains that went with the set just in case he wanted to use them. I also threw a couple of condoms on top of the table as an added precaution. I returned to the side of the bed with my feet hanging over the edge waiting for him to tell me what to do next.

"What's with da accessories?"

"They go with this whole get-up with the spreader bar and the cuffs; just thought I'd leave them there just in case you wanted to use them. By no means do you _have_ to use them but they are there if and when you are ready too. And before you say another word, I am not trying to bring your level of sexual comfort up to that of your brother's. This has nothing to do with Connor so just get that out of your head right now. It should be obvious what the condoms are for, something is definitely wrong if I have to explain it to you."

"Good to know dat yer not comparing me ta me brudder, but let's just leave his name out of dis fer da rest of da night."

As I sat on the edge of bed, I watched as he cuffed my ankles to the spreader bar. He held a look of confidence in his face but his body language said otherwise. His fingers were trembling as he was trying to get the strap through the buckles; even though I wanted for all of this to happen, he was just trying way too hard to please me rather than focusing on what it took to make himself happy. I had to put a stop to this otherwise he was going to end up doing something that he was going to regret.

"Ya don't listen very well, do ya? I t'ought I told ya no touching."

"And I thought I told you that you didn't have to get anything out of the closet. If you want to be 100% in control tonight that's fine but you're on your knees shaking like a leaf. There are other, less intimidating ways, of exerting your control over me without the use of all of this stuff. I want this to happen, I really do, but you have to be comfortable with what you can handle. We can leave the bondage for another night when neither of us has to work and we're both free to make as much noise as we want."

"Leave da cuffs on and lie down on da bed with yer head on da pillows and yer legs spread apart."

The spreader bar clamored to the floor along with the riding crop; the chains were thrown from the table, landing somewhere across the room by my bookcase. I took up residence in my bed as instructed and waited for him to make up his mind about what he wanted to do next. It didn't take long for him to suddenly appear in my line of vision dangling his belt in front of me; I nodded my consent, glancing up to watch him use it to bind my satin-clad wrists together. When he was satisfied that I wasn't going to be able to break free on my own, he gave me one last searing kiss before grabbing one of the condoms off the table.

"Don't want ta have ta stop once we get t'ings going again." He told me as he tore into the foil.

There was a dip in the bed as his body weighed down the mattress beneath us; licking my lips, I lifted myself up when I felt his hands on my hips trying to remove the pants and panties I was wearing. The moment the offending pieces of clothing were removed, his hands were on my thighs and his lips were on my knees trying to coax me into relaxing enough that they fell open. It took very little for me to be able to relax and soon he was on his stomach with my legs draped over his shoulders and his arms wrapped over my hips holding me in place for him.

My head pressed deeper into the pillows at the sound of him inhaling and the touch of his tongue running along my inner thighs. Between him coming in my mouth and me touching myself earlier I had an idea of how wet I was; I just didn't think that it was literally dripping down my legs based on how far along his tongue was going to trace the path back up to my pussy. He ran a stubble-lined cheek along the path he mapped out a few seconds earlier leaving a pink rash in its wake before he moved onto my other leg, cleaning off everything that had run down. He nipped at the flesh sporadically causing me to jump a little bit but the sensation of teeth on bare flesh was nothing short of pleasurable. Who cares if he wasn't the kind of person who partook in bondage; it was something I enjoyed but it was nothing compared to being nipped or bitten.

While he continued nipping at the flesh of my thighs, I began relaxing even further as his ministrations became all the more unrelenting. Any breath that I was holding in came out in one gasp as I felt his fingers enter me unexpectedly; I must've been too relaxed to have noticed his hand had even moved. His other hand had also moved and closed in on my breast pinching my nipple almost painfully hard. I was only able to moan out my satisfaction lifting my hips slightly, hoping he'd get the picture of what it was I wanted him to do. He took his cue and removed his fingers, leaving me feeling empty for the time being.

"No going back after dis; are ya sure ya want dis ta happen?"

"I want this, I have for a while now even before any of this started."

He took ahold of his cock and rubbed it along my entrance before sliding in. He paused just long enough for me to adjust before he started moving his hips. His movements were something I had never experienced before and were also something that I was not used too; they were slow, deep, purposeful, and timed. He obliged when I asked for him to move harder and faster; I was nearly there when he stopped altogether and pulled out of me. Just as I was about to ask him whether or not he had lost his damn mind, he retrieved one of my vibrators from the table.

"You had to pick this one, didn't you?" He had pulled out one of the G-spot vibrators that I had gotten a few months prior but only ever used once or twice. "Do you want to feel everything that I feel while you're fucking me the way you are?"

"Yes and no; some guys like ta feel vibrations going when dey masturbate or have sex."

Whatever it takes to get the job done… At least the one he chose came with a wireless remote so once the device was in place and he was comfortably inside of me once again, I switched it on and fell apart within minutes as both the vibrations and his cock hit all of the right places at the same time. Just when I was about to call it quits for the night, he grabbed the remote from my hand and dialed up the vibrations a few more notches. I screamed his name out as each orgasmic wave rushed through me with no room in between to catch my breath. I raised my bound arms up in an effort to sit up and went sailing forward as he turned the vibrator up to the highest setting. As I fell forward, pushing him onto his back, one final orgasm ripped its way through my body. If I didn't know any better, I could've sworn that with that final push not only did he finally reach his end, but I could feel the condom filling inside of me.

"I think you killed my pussy." I told him, resting my head against his chest allowing the sound of his heartbeat lull me into a blissful sleep.

"At least I got da dessert dat I had been wanting." He added, freeing my wrists from their restraints. "Maybe next time we can try somet'ing new? May not be new fer you, but new fer me."

"What'd you have in mind? Are you taking new position, new toy, or blindfold me and keep me in the dark?"

"If ya'd let me, all of 'em; know dat yer not particularly fond of certain positions, but if ya'd let me try, ya might be changing yer tune by da time I'm done."

"Now you have me intrigued."

"Dat's da point."

Wrapping his hands around my arms, he started gently tugging me towards him. Picking my head up off his chest, I rose until I was straddling his hips. Looking down on him, Murphy seemed to be more relaxed in this moment than he has since the last time we had one of our solo nights. The last time it was just us, before he ended up in the hospital, Murphy ended up falling asleep in my lap. I was only able to find out that he was having a shitty day at work and despite their efforts, Connor and Rocco just ended up making matters worse for him. He mumbled in his sleep that he loved the feeling of my fingers massaging his head and carding through his hair.

Releasing one arm, Murphy brought his hand up seemingly reaching out for something that he was unsure of. A small smile twitched and played across his lips as I brought my head down to meet his touch. Interlacing his fingers through my tangled mess of hair, he moved to bring our faces closer until our lips were just barely grazing. The smile that played across his lips a few seconds earlier slowly turned into a grin as I felt his hips moving under my own, thrusting me forward until we were in a full lip lock.

"Does this mean you're ready to start surprising me with a few tricks of your own?"

"Working towards it."

His voice had dropped half an octave and took on a new tone that sent shivers down my spine straight to the nerves between my legs. It was almost feral in nature and I absolutely love it.

"Don't you think you should put on a new condom?"

"Suppose yer right. T'ink ya'd could let me go without it just dis once?"

"When Hell freezes over. Go suit up and I'll try to find what that brother of yours did with my blindfold."

We both got up from the warmth the bed offered. I could hear the trashcan dragging across the worn out carpet as I opened the door to the closet, pulling the cord to illuminate the room. Connor's favorite rope was folded up and was laid neatly on the shelf but it was not leaving this space tonight, much to my relief. As much as I loved that particular rope, sometimes Connor got more than a little overzealous with it.

"Oh, so you have my blindfold, huh?" I asked, feeling the satin run across the backs of my shoulders.

"Found it in da drawer when I found dat toy. Connor must've stuck it in dere after da last time he used it."

"Thought we were going to leave his name out of this the rest of the night?"

Murphy didn't say anything as he slipped the blindfold over my eyes, plunging me into darkness and the unknown. The light above our heads clicked off and his hands on my shoulders led me out of the closet. He pulled me back a little to stop me just long enough to shut the door before I was being gently pushed towards the bed.

"Put yer hands on da bed."

I did as I was told after my knees lightly thumped into the side of the bed. Murphy's fingers swept my hair over to one shoulder before his hand was on the back of neck, gently pressing me forward until I was hunched over. The other hand mapped its way down my left side until it stopped at my knee.

"Ya trust me?"

Swallowing thickly, I nodded my head in ascent. His fingers dug into the back of knee, lifting it off the floor until it came to rest on the bed just behind my left hand. Connor must have told him that this is one of those positions that I was not particularly fond of and now Murphy was trying to get me to change my tune.

"Ya still trust me?"

Again I nodded my head. This time though I felt the familiar, worn leather of his belt wrap around my neck until the cold metal of the buckle was pressed flushed against my skin. A shiver ran down my spine as my anticipation started growing. The tension on the belt began to tighten until my head was pulled back, fully exposing my throat to future assaults. He slowly entered me from behind before placing his hand on my hip and pulling me back onto him.

There was a brief pause to allow me to adjust however my anticipation started growing to excitement and I decided to forego the period of adjustment. A sharp smack stopped me before I could really get started.

"Didn't say you could move, did I?" When I refused to answer, another smack echoed throughout the room, "answer me; did I say you can move?"

"No, you didn't say I could move."

"Don't do it again. I'm still in charge tonight."

He replaced his hand on my hip, digging his fingers in ensuring that there would be a bruise there in the morning and took up some of the slack on the belt, pulling my head back even further than it was previously. His thrusts started out slow but as he tightened his grip on me they became more fitful until an unrecognizable sound emanated throughout the room.

"T'ink ya could do dat again?"

It took a moment to realize that the sound came from me as it was one that I had no recollection of making previously. Murphy did not wait for me to answer before repeating his movements once again until he was able to successfully pull that same sound from my throat once more.

He pulled out and the belt slackened; I only had a brief moment to catch my breath before I was pushed forward onto the bed. Both hands were on my hips pulling the lower half of my body up. When he was satisfied with the new position, he released one hip and again took up the slack on the belt, pulling my head back. Once more he set a near punishing pace until all I could do was grip the comforter on the bed. The scream he pulled from me came on suddenly when his hand released my hip and his arm snaked its way past my stomach; his fingers running circles over me until I could take no more.

I never had a fighting chance when Murphy pulled out once more, put me on my back, and was sheathing himself inside me. Ripping the blindfold from my face, I saw him suck his bottom lip in between his teeth and the lust in his eyes turn him into a feral animal. The belt around my neck was pulled taut to the point where if this did not end soon I was going to have to say something. Just as it was getting to that point, Murphy stilled his hips altogether, released the tension on the belt and replaced it by wrapping his hand around my throat; squeezing with just enough pressure to replace the pain brought on from the belt with pleasure as his lips came crashing down on mine.

"Fucking knock it off in there! Some people are trying to sleep you know!" There was a loud pounding of a fist somewhere on the walls between us. Neither of us could stop the laughs that ensued as sleep tugged away at my eyes.

"Sorry, suppose I got more den a little rough with ya," he held a small look of regret in his face as he loosened the belt from around my neck, letting drop to the side of the bed.

"Don't ever be sorry about getting a little rough with me between the sheets. If anything, you may have started changing my mind about more than a few things as well as managing to pull a new sound from me that you can brag about to your brother."

I got up from the spot on the bed where Murphy had pushed me and made my way to the head of the bed and my pillows. Murphy followed suit after hearing the condom drop into the trashcan and the fan being turned on 'high.' I was securely wrapped up in his arms, immersed in the smells unique to him, and fell asleep instantly.

A few hours later, I was brought out of a peaceful slumber when I felt myself being pulled onto my stomach. "Mmmph, what time is it?"

"I let ya sleep for more den a half hour but yer still gonna be screaming my name by da time dat alarm goes off in 15 minutes."

It took a moment for his words to sink into my sleep-addled brain to realize what he was saying but before I could stop him he had already swung my leg over his hips and sunk himself in. Any tiredness that had remained had left me as my eyes snapped opened and my head fell back. A flash of something metallic brought my attention back to him; he had something in his hand and a wry, devious grin planted on his face. His eyes held a hint of danger in them as he showed me what the hidden object was.

"I want ya writhing like ya were earlier tonight; I want ta watch ya fall apart all over again."

With the press of a button he turned on the same vibrator he had used on me earlier, sending me forward once again. My hands on his chest were the only thing keeping my full body weight off of him. He ran his tongue along the column of my throat as I felt the vibrations steadily increase and his thrusts became more erratic. His name came almost as an answered prayer dancing off my lips, but I wanted more. I reached my hand out to make a grab at the remote, turning it to the highest vibration setting it had to offer.

He was right though; he had me screaming his name just as the alarm started going off at exactly 6:00 in the morning. Rather than shutting it off, I grabbed it off the table and threw it across the room listening to it smack against the wall and shattering; the sound of the bells dying as the last of the cogs and wheels fell into disarray. And then it dawned on me…

"Murphy, you were wearing a condom, right?"


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Before he had a chance to answer my question the sound of my sister shouting and pounding away at the door coupled with Connor knocking on the glass outside on my window interrupted the good morning that I was going to have. I felt no shame in having Connor stare at our naked forms since he's seen his brother naked too many times to count in their 20 some-odd years on this earth together and he's already fucked me senseless on more than one occasion. My sister being just on the other side of the door had me second guessing whether or not I really wanted to go sauntering through that door showing off my new set of marks and bruises.

"Help you, Connor?" I asked, throwing the window open, letting the cold air hit my bare flesh and flick away any beads of sweat that Murphy had failed to catch as he stood behind me, pushing my hair over my shoulder enabling him to swipe his tongue along the back of my neck.

"Sorry Red, have ta take me brudder back home. Ma's on da phone and she wants ta fawn over her precious babe."

"Tell her me nurse is busy taking care of me. I'll call her back later."

I snorted a bit at his comment as he continued to run his tongue and lips over my shoulder blades; his hands roaming over my stomach venturing lower as I started to feel him press his hips into my ass.

"Nice try, but your nurse has work and school today and you haven't talked to your mom since before your accident. Besides if you start this up again I'm not going to be able to walk right the rest of the day."

"I t'ink dat's da point he's trying ta make; keep ya as bed bound as he is."

I felt him smirking against my skin before he planted one last kiss on the top of my right shoulder and gave my ass a sharp smack; I swear, if I didn't know any better he was trying to imprint the image of his hand there. I went into the closet to grab my heavy bathrobe only to turn around and find Murphy scrambling to pick his clothes up off the floor, fighting against the cold biting wind that came through the open window and Connor climbing inside to survey the damage that the two of us caused in such an enclosed space. Thankfully the damage wasn't as bad in the light of day as I thought it would've been.

"Ya get a chance ta use dese last night or were ya too worn out?" he asked picking up the riding crop and the spreader bar from the floor once he closed the window behind him.

"Had intentions of using 'em till I found somet'ing better."

"Just toss those on the bed, I'll put 'em away when I come back in to get ready for work."

What Murphy meant by 'something better' I wasn't too sure of. He seemed to enjoy using my G-spot vibrator quite a bit but then again he did blindfold me and managed to pull that new sound from me. Either way the wink he threw my way told me that he wasn't going to let Connor in on just what that something was. When I was satisfied that the knot I tied into the robe's belt wasn't going to come undone on its own, I cautiously opened the bedroom door to find my sister standing there looking rather pissed.

"You are such a fucking bitch! How is it that you can that much noise and I can _still_ hear you even with my ears covered? Woman, it is 6:15 in the morning; ain't nobody got time to hear you having the time of your life."

"And good morning to you too baby sister. Murphy seemed like he appreciated that I was having the time of my life in there. Now if you will excuse me, I have to wash the smell of sex off of me. Try not to destroy my place while I'm gone and while I'm thinking of it since Murphy is laid up until next week if you need to go anywhere or just need to get out take him with you. Dangerous neighborhoods and all that shit, you can never be too careful; folks around here can tell if you're not from around this area. A Mexican in an Irish neighborhood kind of sticks out like a sore thumb."

"Shut the fuck up, we have the same parents; you're as Mexican as I am. After the hell you put me through last night and this morning, I'm just going to get a cab and head back to the airport to see if I can get my flight changed. You clearly know what you're doing with these two and you don't look like you need any more of my help. Just remember what we talked about last night."

"I did warn you last night that it was payback for what you and Sam put me through that night I slept on your couch after we got shit-faced on your birthday, did I not?"

The guys laughed at our banter and I retreated to the bathroom for my morning shower as I heard Connor remark that he found it amusing that I looked as Irish as them with the fair skin, red hair, and green eyes to boot while my sister looked like a stereotypical Mexican with the darker skin tone, brown hair, and brown eyes. My sister had a point though, even though we both had the same parents who have been married for a little more than 30 years I looked more like our mom and she looked more like our dad. To look at us side-by-side, one would've never been able to tell we were sisters unless we told them.

When I emerged from the shower about 10 minutes later Connor, Murphy, and my sister were all seated on the couch with their eyes glued to the t.v. set as the morning news reporters began to regale us with the daily tales of woe that have befallen upon our precious city. The top stories aside from the Bruins getting their asses handed to them by the Blackhawks were a couple more overnight murders thought to have been gang-related, some drunk trying to rob the Lakeview, and Rocco's mugshot being flashed on the screen for possession and receiving stolen merchandise.

"If we can, we'll bail Roc out later today or tomorrow. This shit though with the nightly murders has got to stop. Times like this I really wish I knew who those Saints were; it doesn't put a stop to daily life but it at least put things on hold for a little bit." I offered, stepping out of the hallway re-dressed in my robe and padding into the kitchen for my morning cup of coffee.

"For God's sake, how can you support the Saints? They're just as bad as those who are doing all the rest of the city's dirty work and from what the news back home is saying about them, they make your ex sound nowhere near as bad as he actually was."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, I'm sure he would've _loved_ hearing you say that." I shouted from the kitchen as I went about trying to find what the twins had done with my containers of creamer and sugar.

"Looking fer somet'ing?"

"Trying to find what you and Murphy did with my stuff. Finally found my sugar container in the damn fridge, but where's my creamer?"

"Sorry, got da two of 'em mixed up again." Connor replied, going to the pantry to pull the creamer out.

"See, this is why I leave these on the counter so I don't have to ask either of you what you did with them. I'm sorry, but why do you think powdered creamer belongs in the fridge?"

"We're used ta using milk and milk goes in da fridge."

While I finished getting my cup ready, a chair scrapped across the floor and I heard Connor plop down with a thud and a sigh. The alarm on the microwave rang out as the countdown ended. I retrieved my now hot cup of coffee from the microwave and pulled the chair out next to Connor's.

"We need ta talk; not right now since ya have ta get ready fer work but it needs ta be sooner rather den later."

"About what you and my sister talked about last night?"

"Yeah, need a few days before den, but we do need ta talk."

I nodded my head in understanding knowing that I, myself, needed a few days to gather my thoughts and to prepare for one of two scenarios. Glancing over at the digital clock on the stove, I was forced to finish my coffee a lot quicker than I would've liked and placed the cup in the sink to soak before returning to the table to push the chair in and to card my fingers through Connor's hair for a brief minute.

"Murph did quite a number on yer neck, aren't ya worried about how yer gonna cover it?"

"I didn't cover the marks you put on me before I went home for Christmas, why cover what Murphy did last night?"

"Won't Charlie t'ink dat somet'ing happened to ya? What about da other folks ya work with?"

"Fuck 'em; it's my life, not theirs. Who cares what other people think when all that should matter is what I think? I've got to get ready to go. Connor, isn't your mom still on the phone?"

I heard him exclaim 'oh fuck' as I shut my bedroom door and started digging around in the dresser for something clean to wear while I listened to my sister argue with Murphy in the living room over the Saints and whether or not what they do would be considered a public service or nuisance. As I emerged freshly dressed the two were still going at it. I told them that I was leaving and grabbed my keys from the hook by the door; pausing to turn around and give each of my cats a quick kiss on the head and a scratch behind the ears. Even though I wasn't the praying type, I offered up a quick one in the hopes that neither my sister nor Murphy killed each other over the subject of the Saints.

I made it to work with no problems and got through the day pretty quickly; Charlie had taken a couple of vacation days to go on a Jamaican cruise and one of my co-workers, Carla, called in sick; so it was just myself and one other person working in the lab. It was going on noon when my phone started going off and since it was coming up on my break anyway leaving a few minutes early wasn't going to be the end of the world. As long as one of us was in the lab the director wasn't going to be throwing a tantrum anytime soon.

"Hello?"

"Hey, long time no talk. I'm sorry to bother you since you're probably at work right now, but if you're not doing anything tonight, could I take you out for dinner? Things didn't exactly go as I had planned when we went out the first time and I want to make it up to you."

'Give me the Pope calling long distance; give me the comedic stylings of Annabelle MacManus. Hell, I'll take a psychic stopping me in the middle of the street to tell me my dead grandpa says 'hi Sparkplug.' Give me anyone but Jack!' I whined to myself.

"I'm sorry Jack, but I have class tonight after I get off work and I just started seeing someone."

I ended the call before he could get in another word edge-wise. I wasn't lying so there was no need to have second thoughts on it. Even though I just agreed to give Murphy a chance I debated on whether or not he'd want to hear about Jack calling should the question of how my day went came up.

I hung up the phone and got back to work thankful that I was off today at 2:00 because I had signed up for 3:30 pm class and it was the only class I had on Mondays which meant I'd be home at around 6:30 if I was lucky; there was always the 5:00 rush hour coupled with people trying to get on the trains at the same time people were trying to get off that I would have to contend with but at least I'd still be home at a reasonable hour. It was just another small thing I missed about home: when I would take the Metrolink downtown for baseball and hockey games we waited on the platforms for people to get off the trains before we got on ourselves. It's hard to believe how much common courtesy people have lost over the years.

The class I had signed up for was entitled Forensic Pathology and it offered me the opportunity to challenge myself further. When I had was working with Dolly, Duffy, and Greenly on that cold case just before the semester started they had offered to put in a good word for me with their Sergeant if an internship opened up in their forensics unit. It was definitely an offer I appreciated and I gave Duffy a copy of my resume the following day along with the application for internship. Even though it didn't pay anything, at least having the experience would help. The topic of discussion tonight was the Saints and their ways of killing their targets. Our professor liked to keep things interesting so when she brought up the topic the entire room was up in arms. I had let my mind drift before I heard my name being called, bringing me back to reality.

"When you see the pictures of the Saints first victim, Petrova, what are your first thoughts other than the obvious?"

"You mean other than his eyes missing? The pennies would be a good place to start; whoever these Saints are clearly studied and paid attention to their ancient Greek and Roman history." I got a few looks of confusion from my fellow classmates before I pressed on. "In ancient times your loved ones would bury you with coins over your eyes; they believed that you had to pay a toll to the boatman who would then carry you across the River Styx to the gates of Judgment. From there your fate was decided; that being said if you were to die in battle, in lieu of a fiery burial you could have three handfuls of dirt thrown over your body and it was considered to be a formal burial as long as you had your coins. However if you died and were without payment your soul was forced to wait on the banks of the River until the toll could be paid. This could be what we refer to as Purgatory in modern society.

"I also think that whoever these Saints are had to be about the same height in order for the bullet wounds to be where they are. Without seeing pictures of the back of the skull it's hard to say which bullet went in first and which went in second. There would've been a delay in firing one gun and then the other, otherwise the bullets would've struck each other and the trajectory of the bullets would've changed. If you want my two cents, no pun intended, if we all graduate and these Saints are still working by that time then I think we're all going to have jobs in this field."

I kind of tuned myself out after that, returning my thoughts to everything that had happened over the course of the last 36 hours; especially with what happened this morning. Yes I was on the pill but there's always that chance that it could fail leaving me knocked up if he hadn't wrapped it; that was part of the reason why I had left the remainder of the box out after he fell asleep. Which reminds me, I have to pick up another box when I do my shopping this weekend; then again, at the rate these two are going through them during the course of one night, I better make that two or three boxes. I was taken from my thoughts once again when our professor announced that our next class was going to be a field trip down to the morgue so those of us with weak stomachs may want to think about staying home. The prospect was actually kind of exciting in my opinion.

I had gotten home right around 6:45 to find Murphy fast asleep on my couch with the t.v. turned on low. I shut the door as quietly as I could but I was pretty sure the sound of his snoring drowned out any noise that the door made. I set my things on the ruined kitchen table and got out the package of ground deer that I put in the fridge the other day to thaw out, what can I say Bambi tastes good. I had no idea what I was making for dinner tonight, but it was going to be a K.I.S.S meal and if Murphy was hungry then he could clean up the kitchen. He may have a head injury but he's not disabled so doing the dishes was not going to be the end of the world.

"I was wearing one if dat's what yer still worried about." He told me as he came into the kitchen pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before shuffling out to use the bathroom.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief, releasing most of the tension that had built up in my neck and shoulders over the course of the day. I say most only because Jack's unexpected phone call out of the blue had my suspicions raised as well as working up the courage to tell Charlie that I was quitting the museum. Duffy had called me while I was on my way to school saying that they wanted to offer me a paid internship with the forensics department and gave me the name of the lead in that unit who would have more details for me. I loved archaeology and I loved to get dirty but helping to bring closure to someone's family seemed to be more rewarding.

"I hope ya don't mind dat I stayed here after ya left but I've been trying ta avoid talking ta Ma all day. I miss her and all dat but I don't need her worrying over me when we're separated by an ocean. Truthfully dat was part of da reason why we left; we couldn't take anymore of her hounding us. Are ya okay? Ya don't look quite like yerself."

"Just got a lot going on upstairs that I need to sort through. She's your mother though, you need to call her and let her know that you're okay. You may be separated by an ocean but that doesn't mean she won't cross it; if I went through what you did my mom would've been here in a heartbeat. Look at it this way, if you don't call her she probably will swim across that ocean to check up on you. From the stories that all three of you have told me, I wouldn't put it past her. If you don't call her then I will and you won't like it if I start talking with your mom. I will get her to start telling me everything about your childhood, including all of the embarrassing stories of puberty that Connor has alluded too."

"Okay, okay I'll call her in da morning. Why don't ya tell me what it is ya need ta sort out, maybe it's somet'ing I could help with? If we're going ta try dis whole relationship t'ing den I need ya ta know you can tell me anyt'ing as long as ya feel comfortable with it."

I'll have to remember to thank him for that one later over dinner. It's been probably less than 24 hours and I've already started rebuilding the walls that Murphy has worked so hard on taking down. His hands quietly coming up behind me to knead the sore, stiff muscles in my back was a good way of getting me to relax. These apprehensions were going to be my downfall; I've been so used to being on my own and I knew what was coming if this kept up.

"You remember when you were in the hospital and there were some nights I'd come up smelling like I rolled around in the mud? The detectives that I was working with on that cold case called me up saying they have a paid internship opening up in the forensics department. I love my job at the museum but I want to be a lot closer to home and I want to be able to apply what I'm learning to the field." I started, figuring this would be as good a place to start as any.

"So yer gonna be looking at dead bodies all day rather den cleaning mud off shit? Won't ya get sick seeing dat all day?"

"I've got a strong stomach; we're taking a field trip to the morgue next week for class. Who knows what they would have me doing, I may be looking at dead bodies or I may be working on cold cases or it could be a combination of both. I don't know if it matters or not but I got a phone call today from that asshole Jack. The one that Charlie and Ryan doubled up with me on and you two were hooting and hollering over that black dress? He said he wanted to take me out to dinner tonight; I told him I had class tonight and that I had just started seeing someone. I hung up on him before he could say anything but it just kind of creeped me out that he'd call just out of the blue. Something about his tone was off. It could be nothing or it could be something, I don't know but it was creepy and it takes a lot to creep me out."

There was a knock on the door and Connor's voice on the other side demanding entrance. I had asked Murphy to the open the door while I finished dinner; I had settled on Sloppy Joes and homemade onion rings. There was plenty of beer left in the fridge to wash it all down afterwards if they needed it. Not that they would be in serious need of it since the batter for the onion rings I made had a full bottle of beer in it.

It was too quiet out in the hallway so once the meat was done cooking and I was able to move the pan to the back burner I cautiously walked out of the kitchen with my hand gripping the butcher's knife that I grabbed out of the block on the counter. My door was shut and both Connor and Murphy were slumped over on the floor bleeding out.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as my palms began to sweat, dropping my only means of defense to the floor with a clang. Their attacker didn't even have to turn around for me to know who it was. He had me backed up against the bedroom door in no time, gliding his hand over my throat as he leaned in to whisper in my ear words that only I could hear.

"I've missed you."


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

"Wake up! Red, if you can hear me, wake up!"

Murphy's voice was panicked and far away but as I looked around me I saw nothing but the floor and the walls around me crumble away to reveal the all too familiar red colored canyons. I tried to focus on his voice as it desperately tried to bring me back to reality, but his face flashing before my eyes kept me locked away inside my own terrifying nightmare. The image of him being shoved off the ledge of one of the canyons and landing on the jagged rocks below is what finally jolted me awake and out of my nightmare.

The worse part of these nightmares, especially when I'm by myself, is that I can feel my entire being trying to wake me up to no avail. It's like a constant movie reel playing in my head that refuses to stop playing until those final images are revealed. I can feel my body trying to levitate off the mattress, I can hear gasping as the air is being cut off in my throat, I can feel my lungs locking up and the tears steadily streaming from my eyes onto the pillow; my face contorting into a mix of pain, fear, agony, and anger.

A strong pair of arms wound around my neck and a rough set of calloused hands tangled in my hair was the only thing keeping from flying out of bed to seek refuge in the corner. It did not stop my sister however, from nearly breaking the door in when the sounds of my screaming filled the apartment. Murphy's voice telling her the door was unlocked was all she needed before it flung open, hitting the wall behind it.

Despite the darkness, there was a full moon out tonight that shone in through the bedroom window. In the light of the moon, I could barely make out the shadows that played on the walls. Through watery eyes I could see one in front of me, one behind me, and mine in the middle struggling to break free. As the movie reel started replaying once more before my eyes a thought flitted across my mind: break free from this confinement, open the window, and end it all. To go the way he did by my own doing.

What would the twins think if these thoughts ever formulated into words?

"Was it another nightmare?" she asked, her voice coming from somewhere behind me as my level of fear ratcheted up another notch and I tried breaking out of Murphy's embrace. "Just let go of her; holding onto her like that is only going to make her struggle more."

My sister's voice brought me out of my head as I started to realize just how much of a struggle I was putting up. Murphy was trying to keep me anchored to reality, to the here and now. My sister on the other hand, was trying to pry Murphy's hands off of me; allowing me the exit that I desperately sought whether it was through a glass window, to a corner. An exit that would allow me to be anywhere but this bed.

The second Murphy started relaxing the grip he had on me, I flew out of his arms and straight to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me. Before tonight, my nightmares of him had been pretty standard, tonight was the first time that I had ever brought others inside. I wasn't sure which was more terrifying: an omen that spelled out Connor and Murphy's deaths or that he was going to haunt me until I died. I never let anyone get close to me after he died because I never wanted them to see me the way Murphy just did. The overwhelming thoughts that consumed my mind started making me nauseous; the bile and acidic taste sprang up on my tongue as the contents of my stomach worked their way up.

* * *

"Don't take offense to it she just needs her space and some time to calm herself down. C'mon, let's go into the kitchen; we can check on her in a little bit. You may want to put some clothes on while you're at it since you and I have some things to talk about."

"Are ya sure she's gonna be okay? She sure as shit doesn't look like it. Maybe I should go check on her."

"You do that and she'll tear your head clean off your shoulders. This is exactly what I was talking about yesterday when I told you her nightmares can be pretty fucking intense. The question you should be asking is whether or not you can really handle that level of intensity. Trust me when I say that I've seen worse than that; it's another reason why she committed herself in the first place: she was afraid that she was going to end up hurting herself and no one would be there to wake her up if it got to that point.

"It sounds like something out of a Freddy Krueger movie but I've seen it happen; she was staying the night at my place one night while Sam was out of town, she fell off the couch and landed head first on the corner of the coffee table. I ran out of the bedroom when she started screaming and found her lying in a pile of broken glass and bent metal thrashing around like she was having a seizure. I had to call 9-1-1 and have them take her to the hospital to make sure she didn't hurt herself too bad. Her psychiatrist back home told her to keep a daily journal of all the nightmares she had each night and to rate them on a scale of 1 to 10 of how bad they were. Anything over a 10 she's supposed to take some type of medication that'll help her sleep but more or less shut the movie reel off that's been re-playing inside her head. She never took a single one of those pills because one of the side effects was an increase in suicidal thoughts and actions; she does not need that on top of what she's already going through."

"So yer telling me dat anyt'ing I do is hopeless? How da fuck has she been functioning da past couple of years? I really want ta help her; she needs me."

"She needs you or you need her? I honestly don't know how she's been managing to keep herself as put together as she is. When she came home, after having a nightmare like that she would drink and keep drinking until she passed out. Her doctor recommended some alternatives but she was never one to follow doctor's orders."

She saw the smirk come across his face and came to the conclusion that he knew what she was talking about. She heard about her sister's mugging and the trip to the hospital; how she was supposed to keep her arm in a sling and to not lift anything more than 10 pounds. She figured that's what his expression was all about. She was busy bustling around the kitchen as they continued to talk. Her sister had a routine she followed down to the letter when she had a nightmare this bad and took precautionary measures to make sure everything was laid out on the counter for when she emerged from the bathroom.

"She's got this weird cleaning thing she does after she has had a nightmare that intense. She has to do something to help keep her from dwelling on it and she's chosen to spend her time decompressing by cleaning the entire kitchen from top to bottom. When I brought her home from the ER after she smashed her head through my coffee table, she went through every cabinet in the kitchen, took out all of the dishes and scrubbed them in near scalding hot water. Every dish was already clean. She then went into my bathroom and pulled out all the cleaning supplies and scrubbed away at every surface she could reach; she even took an old toothbrush out of the trashcan and used it to clean the grout between the tiles on the kitchen floor."

"Ya ever ask why?"

"Yep. Never did get an answer from her. She has her reasons for doing the things she does. Just takes someone with a strong enough will to dig deep enough to find the answers."

"Me and Connor will figure it out."

"Good luck. Whatever you do though, do not touch her when she comes out of the bathroom. Don't give me that look; you have to let her come to you. She is going to come out of that bathroom shaking like a leaf and the last thing she needs is one of us trying to touch her or hold her or any of those actions that are meant to be compassionate. Think of her as a frightened, caged animal; what happens when they feel cornered? They lash out and when she lashes out, she gets physical. The first and only time I tried that I ended up with a pair of black eyes and a fat lip. We're sisters afterall, we do fight."

"Ya won't hear me arguing on dat point. Some days I wonder if me and Connor sharing da same space is a good idea. Den again, dere are days I'm grateful we live under da same roof."

"Count yourselves as lucky; we get along better the further away we are. My sister inherited our dad's temper and it's not pretty. Guess that's one of the downsides of being a natural-born Texan: bad temper. Our dad's side of the family is all from Texas and their tempers pale in comparison to my sister's. Add in the fact that our mom is part Irish and you've got a dangerous cocktail on your hands when she does finally blow her top."

"Well den, she should get along with our Ma no problem. From what I hear, dat got on just fine while I was in da hospital."

* * *

I wasn't sure how long I was in the bathroom hurling my guts out, but once I was finally sure that the nausea had passed and my stomach was completely empty I closed the lid and flushed the toilet. I scooted across the floor until my back hit the wall and my head fell backwards, taking a few deep breaths before I attempted to stand. It was a struggle to get back on my feet again, but once the task was accomplished I washed my hands and rinsed my mouth out. I caught sight of my reflection staring back at me and what I saw just made the nightmare seem more real. My face was tear-stained, my nose was puffy, and my eyes were bloodshot; I guess all of the force behind what came up made me break a few blood vessels in my eyes. Nothing anyone can do about broken blood vessels but let them heal on their own.

When I emerged from the bathroom the sound of my sister's and Murphy's voices in the kitchen quickly silenced themselves.

'Time for the walk of shame' I told myself.

Taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it, I made my way to the kitchen. I kept my eyes cast down, more so out of embarrassment, as I started in on my routine, silently reminding myself to thank my sister later for getting everything out for me. After a nightmare like this, I had to do something to keep my mind from dwelling on it. This whole routine I set for myself would take a couple of hours to complete, which should be enough time for my mind to unwind itself from the complicated series of knots that it somehow managed to tie itself into.

As I set about my tasks Murphy continued trying to get me to talk to him while my sister repeatedly told him to leave me alone; that I would talk when I was ready. I knew I scared him pretty badly and I wasn't trying to ignore him on purpose but I had to get this done before I said a word to anybody. He finally gave up and took a seat on the couch next to my sister when the clock struck 4 a.m. I was going to have to call into work today after this one and probably let my professor know I wasn't going to be in class either.

It wasn't until the morning news started that I realized it was 6 a.m. and I had been awake the past 2 or 3 hours trying to calm myself down. At least all of the cleaning in the kitchen was done and I could finally make myself something to help calm my nerves and perhaps help me get back to sleep. As I waited for the pot of water to come to a boil, I walked out of the kitchen and went straight to my sister, giving her a hug and whispered a meaningful 'thank you' into her ear. We may fight like cats and dogs but we hate to see each other hurt and not know how to fix it. If anything, I am more than thankful that Connor went behind my back and invited her up here. Without her, I have no idea what Murphy or Connor would have done in this situation. I do know though that I would have burned the bridge with the both of them standing on it had my sister not been here.

She let me go once the pot started to whistle and went about getting the rest of my drink ready for me. The look on Murphy's face told me he was hurting and there wasn't much I could say or do to make that go away. His face softened a little bit with the light of the rising sun breaking through the darkness of the living room as he extended a hand towards mine; grasping it he gave my arm a gentle tug pulling me toward him. I wasn't sure what his intentions were but I was so filled with doubt that I just decided it was in my best interest to let him do what he wanted. He pulled me onto his lap so that I was straddling him; his arms were wrapped around my waist rubbing my back while mine were wrapped around his neck. Neither of us said anything as we stared at the darkness that surrounded us. My sister came back into the room with the largest coffee cup I owned filled to the brim along with something draped over her arm breaking the rising tension that had been mounting.

"Wasn't sure how much you were able to feel the past couple of hours but I thought you may want your robe to cover up with." She said, showing me the robe that she dug out of my closet and draping it over my shoulders.

It was until she said something that it dawned on me that I had been naked this whole time; under different circumstances I'm almost certain that Murphy would've enjoyed the view. The reality of the situation though made me realize that I may be better off permanently locked away in an institute; an even better option would be turning myself in to the F.B.I. and convince them alongside a team of defense lawyers that I'm not mentally fit to stand trial.

"Why don't you finish this and call your boss to let him know you're not going in today? I know you hate hearing it, but you need to sleep. I was only able to take off work today and yesterday to fly up here and check on you so I have an 8 a.m. flight I need to catch. If you need to talk to me, you call me, understand? I only met these guys yesterday and they seem to really care about you so if you don't want to talk to me, you talk to them. Don't start shutting yourself down after you managed to find yourself two good men willing to put your fears to rest. Murphy, you and Connor both have my number if you have questions that she can't answer, call me."

With that, my sister started packing up her things and headed towards the door. The sound of knocking a few seconds later and Connor's voice filled my ears with dread. I didn't want my sister to leave to begin with but Connor being on the other side of the door it brought back the memories of the nightmare all over again. Somehow Murphy's voice broke through the black fog that started to cloud my mind and I heard my sister laughing at something that Connor had said followed by the door closing behind her.

"I'm sorry, you were never supposed to see me like this."

"Were ya not paying attention when I told ya dat I've been watching ya do dat fer months? Scared da fucking hell out of me seeing ya like dat, but ya have no reason ta be sorry fer somet'ing ya can't control."

"There's a difference between watching it happen from a window and experiencing it first-hand. Does Connor know what happened?"

"Not yet. Don't know if ya even heard me or not, but I ran upstairs fer a few minutes to get somet'ing while you were cleaning. Connor was taking a piss and I didn't wanna be gone too long. Told him dat somet'ing happened during da night and I was staying here until you were feeling better. Pretty sure he knows it was anot'er nightmare."

"Might be a stupid question, but how would he know if you didn't tell him?"

"Silent twin conversation."

We fell into silence as the sun continued its rise into the eastern sky and the sounds of the city started coming to life once again. The morning news reporters were re-capping the same stories we had heard last night, some of them were similar to the ones I had dreamed up in my sleep. Thankfully though, Rocco's name was never mentioned. Murphy's hands continued to roam over my back in an effort to keep me anchored to where I was. The feeling was a relaxing one that I never wanted to end. I could feel my eyelids finally start drooping and my head falling forward on his shoulder as I tried to make myself even more comfortable where I was.

"C'mon, ya've gotta finish dis and call inta work. I already told Connor dat I'm staying here so ya won't be alone. If ya don't mind t'ough, I'm gonna call Ma while yer sleeping."

"You can use my phone to call her if you want. After the last time I talked to her I decided to save her number to my contacts just in case I had to call her in case of another emergency or if you two pushed one button too many. Sorry, I probably should've asked you two if it was okay."

"Ya need ta stop apologizing fer shit all da time. You can be sorry all ya want fer any number of reasons, but dere's no need ta be saying sorry fer somet'ing ya can't control and dere's no need ta be saying sorry fer wanting someone ta talk to when we start getting ta be too much ta handle. Now, drink the rest of dis and go on back ta bed."

"Please, don't make me go back in there by myself."

This was the worst nightmare I had experienced since the days, weeks, and months following his death and I did not want to be alone. Truthfully, I was still too scared to go back to sleep and I was more than certain that I had just scared Murphy off for good; that he was using the excuse to call his mom while I was sleeping as his get out of jail free card to wash his hands clean of me.

"Make ya a deal: you drink da rest of dis and we'll both go lay back down fer a bit. Deal?"

Though he seemed a bit frustrated with my failing attempts to stay as far away from the bedroom as possible, Murphy remained patient. After everything the two of us have been through in the past few months, he has finally decided that now was the right time to start exercising the virtue that I had tried to instill in him. I'll have to call Annabelle later and thank her for her words of wisdom. Murphy will learn his lesson when the tables are turned is what she told me.

I nodded my head in agreement and reluctantly, I did as I was told for a change. I was also convinced that by striking this deal that he was going to be gone for good when I woke up later in the morning. That he was going to tell Connor just how fucked up I am and I was never going to see either of them again after today. That there would be times where we would inevitably meet in public, probably at McGinty's, but neither of them would acknowledge my presence. They would tell Doc, Rocco, and all their other buddies about what happened today and I would be ostracized from the only public place I really felt comfortable at.

Somehow, Murphy managed to untangle my limbs from around him and took my now empty coffee cup from my hands. He nearly had to lift me off of his lap so he could put the item elsewhere. I stood from the couch and waited for him outside the bedroom door, watching him place my cup on top of the counter. Once inside the bedroom, I found that the fan was still turned on and the blankets were thrown around just like we had left them. I climbed back into the bed, thankful that the fan had dried whatever sweat and tears were on my side. Murphy climbed in next to me, drawing the blankets over us and wrapping me up in the safety of his arms until I was finally able to fall back to sleep, though it was far from the peaceful bliss I had experienced the night before.

I lay in bed tossing and turning for the next couple of hours until I couldn't stand it anymore. The first time I had woken up, Murphy was gone and I did the best I could to fall back asleep on my own. Catching a glimpse at the alarm clock, I saw that it was pushing 9 a.m. The second time I woke up, I called into work letting them know that I was sick and that I would try to be in the next day. I threw the blankets off, shut the fan off, and got dressed before climbing out the window, reaching for the rails of the fire escape and climbing down. I resigned to the fact that no matter what I did or where I went, his face was always going to be hiding in the dark recesses of my mind. I also knew that I was a wanted fugitive so in order to get the help I needed I had to turn myself in. The fact that I was able to boldly walk in and out of a Boston P.D. sub-station as well as work with a trio of homicide detectives without anyone recognizing my face on a wanted poster had been a blessing and a curse. But it was time to stop running.

Before I left, I made sure to leave a note asking that my cats be taken care of while I'm gone along with a duffle bag filled with an undisclosed amount of money that could be used for their complete care, including visits to the vet when they needed to go. Under no circumstances were they to be separated, I just hope that Connor and Murphy were up to the task of being cat parents. The cats had taken to them pretty quickly so I would hate to see them go to a home where they were around strangers or even worse, abused.

"Hey, look who decided to drop in for a visit!" Greenly exclaimed as he came walking through one of the various hallways, slinging an arm over my shoulders. "What can we do for you today? Not here to confess to another self-defense shooting, are you? No, I got it, you're here to get an early start on that internship, huh?

I gave him a weak smile and pushed his arm off my shoulder as I walked over to the wanted board, taking one of the many flyers down and handing it to him.

"I'm turning myself in. I'm tired of running, I'm tired of hiding in plain sight, and I'm just tired. I can't afford an attorney and I know I'm going to be needing one." Handing the paper over to Greenly.

"Sweetheart, you know I gotta put these on." Dolly's voice was soft, filled with sorrow as he gently took a hold of my wrists, placing them behind my back. As tired as I was, I just had no fight left in me to oppose someone who was just doing their job. Dolly had watched me carefully, though confused, as I took the push-pin holding my wanted poster out of the cork board and replaced it.

"Green Beans, go get Smecker he is not gonna believe this shit."

Duffy's voice came from out of nowhere as I watched him peer over Greenly's shoulder, taking the sheet of paper from his hands and doing a double-take of the three year old mugshot and my current appearance.

"C'mon, we're gonna put you in room one while Greenly's getting Agent Smecker. Just so you're aware, he is currently our in-house FBI liaison working on The Saints case but he'll be the one in charge of your case. I'm going to make a phone call and get a public defender down here for you. Need anything while you're waiting?"

I shook my head as I followed Dolly down a short hallway and was directed to a room labeled as interrogation room 1. A metal table, two chairs, and a two-way mirror were the contents of the room. I was told to have a seat and to be quiet as Dolly pointed up to a corner of the room in which a camera was placed. The door closed behind the pair and I sat waiting in silence, contemplating what questions were going to be asked of me and the many ways in which this could play out.

My thoughts were interrupted when a man in a dark blue, three piece suit came into the room. His hair was rather flamboyant looking for an FBI agent but his demeanor was strictly professional. He oozed with confidence, wisdom, and experience. Looks alone, he was going to talk the prosecutor, judge, and jury into giving me the maximum sentence possible. I would not be surprised if I was found guilty and told that I was going to be sentenced to death.

"The items you requested are being sent out now, won't get here until closer to 6 or 7 tonight. I've got a call in to the courthouse for a public defender; should be here within the next half hour or so." Duffy's voice was just outside the door as this man stood in the doorway watching me from the corner of his eye. He nodded his head before entering the room, closing the door behind him.

"I'm FBI Special Agent Paul Smecker, and you are?"

"Tired. You're holding my wanted poster; you have my name there if you want to address me but know this, I'm not saying anything on this matter until I have an attorney present."

Today is going to be a long day.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

"We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you this breaking story: One of the F.B.I.'s most wanted has been arrested. Sources say that the fugitive turned herself into police early this morning; officials are not releasing her name at this time as they are still trying to confirm her identity. Police are confirming that she has obtained legal representation and will be transferred into federal custody upon confirmation of her identity. We will be bringing you more details as they come in. Now back to your regularly scheduled programming."

* * *

"I'm sorry, but I am not answering any questions until I have a lawyer present. I may be in federal custody, but I am a natural born American citizen and I am entitled to have an attorney present during questioning. You are not going to bully me into talking, Agent Smecker."

"Fine, you win; just remember this young lady you can make this a hell of a lot easier on yourself by telling me the truth now and I can promise I will work out a fair deal for you."

"I fully intended on telling you everything, I just want an attorney present. If it's a fair deal you're aiming for then you get me locked up in one the country's many mental institutes because I'm sure as shit not fit to stand trial for what I've _supposedly_ done."

"Listen missy, you'll get what myself and the prosecutor can give you. If you don't take what we offer it'll be up to a jury to decide."

He waltzed out of the room, slamming the door closed behind him. What a fucking drama queen!

* * *

"Whoever she is, she better hope dat she can't get out any time soon otherwise I t'ink we'll have ta pay her a little visit. Did Red say anything ta you about leaving? It's weird dat she disappears and all she leaves us is a note asking us ta take care of her cats and a duffle bag filled with about $10,000 in cash and den da news is flashing a breaking story about a fugitive turning themselves in at around da same time. T'ink its related?"

"She never said anyt'ing ta me or her sister; she drank whatever it was dat her sister made her and we went back ta bed. When I got up about an hour later she was still sleeping and I came up here ta call Ma. After I got off da phone with Ma, I went back down there, went ta go lay down with her and she was gone. Honestly, I didn't t'ink dat I was on da phone fer nearly t'ree hours but everyt'ing was just like she left it and dat note and da duffle were on da bed. I t'ought fer sure dat if she agreed ta let us help her dat t'ings might get better fer her but after dat nightmare she had dis morning I'm not sure she can handle being around anybody."

"Told ya before ta stop chewing on dat t'umb of yers; yer gonna end up biting da damn t'ing off one of dese days."

"Fuck off."

Connor was not on the schedule to work so rather than spending his time sleeping in he had borrowed Rocco's car and dropped Red's little sister off at the airport. He had heard about her nightmare from both her sister and his brother, though his brother needed no words to tell him what had happened. Connor was currently sitting at their kitchen table cleaning out the barrel to one of his guns when the phone inside their loft began ringing. Murphy quickly dove from the kitchen floor that he had been frantically pacing to retrieve it, hoping it was the caller he had been waiting to hear from.

"Murphy, is that you?"

"Red? Jesus Christ, where da fuck are ya? Are ya alright? Do ya need us ta come get ya?"

"I'm okay, you don't need to come and get me. Watch the 5 o'clock news tonight. I'm sorry I should've told you both the truth sooner. Take care of my kids for me, will you? I miss them both already."

The call disconnected and the only thing that he could hear was dead air. He slung the phone across the room watching it hit more of the broken tiles of the shower before breaking into a pile of plastic pieces on the floor.

"What did she say? Is she alright?"

"She said she was okay, ta watch da news tonight at 5 o'clock, and dat she's sorry fer not telling us da truth; whatever da fuck dat means. She sounded so sad and distant; I've never heard her sound like dat before. Do ya t'ink dis has anyt'ing ta do with dat fugitive turning themselves in earlier today?"

Connor glanced up at the clock and saw that it was just past noon. As he finished replacing the firing pin back into this handgun, he stole a glance at his brother who was trying to pick up the pieces of their phone; meandering about the loft space in a daze hoping that whatever it was that she was hiding would not result in her being gone too long.

"Murph, get yer coat; we're going out fer a bit. Don't wanna hear no if's and's or but's about it. You need ta get out fer a while and so do I. Promise, we'll be back before da news is on. You need ta go ta confession den we need ta see Roc about a job. It'll be enough ta distract ya fer a bit; you can put da phone back together when we get back."

Murphy moved numbly around the loft but adhered to his brother's words, carelessly dropping the pieces of the phone on the table and grabbing his coat from his chair at the table. They paused momentarily at the door, each retrieving their respective rosary from the nail in the wall before leaving. Though he never said it outright, Murphy was grateful for his brother's efforts in trying to distract him but he could not get over the fact that she was hiding something from him, from them. A flashback to when she had gotten home from Christmas break and the two of them trying to explain that the looks of her kitchen were due to Charlie's negligence and how her neighbor had cursed the pair of them brought back the words that now echoed: "There's a lot I'm not telling you."

They stayed indoors the rest of the day waiting for the news to start at 5 p.m. knowing that whatever it was that Red was referring too would probably be one of the top stories of the hour. They had managed to occupy themselves for a couple of hours; just before heading back home, Connor took the liberty of buying an entire carton of cigarettes knowing that the two of them were going to be chain smoking the rest of the day away even after the news stories broke. Occasionally the news would break-in with small updates on the fugitive that was now in federal custody and that her identity was confirmed but they never showed her face or released her name. Murphy had guessed that they were saving all of that for the broadcast scheduled for 5:00 that evening.

"Our top story this hour is the arrest of one the F.B.I.'s most wanted; Federal authorities have confirmed that Róisín Perkins turned herself in under her own freewill and has obtained legal representation. F.B.I. Special Agent Paul Smecker has been placed in charge of the investigation and has told reporters that Perkins is fully cooperating. Perkins is expected to be extradited back to Utah upon the completion of a full mental evaluation. Perkins has been charged with the murders of no less than 20 people, arson, and crimes against humanity including torture. F.B.I. officials have been actively looking for Perkins since late 1996 when she allegedly barricaded approximately 20 people inside of a local bar in Cainesville, Utah and set fire to the establishment. The owner of the bar was later found inside the home of his deceased son tortured to death. Police say that by the time the bar owner's body had been discovered Perkins had already left and disappeared off the map. Perkins has earned the nickname 'Róisín Dubh' due to the graphic nature of a rose-shaped design she carved into each her victims before their deaths. We will have more details of Perkins' arrest as they come in."

Pictures of Red flashed across their small t.v. set; both her old blonde hair with the natural red roots peeking through and her current mugshot taken today with her full-on red hair and an expressionless face that neither Connor nor Murphy were accustomed to seeing.

"If she ever sees da light of day again, I don't t'ink I could pull da trigger. I know we agreed dat evil men are dead men, but I can't kill a woman no matter how terrible her crimes are. Maybe if we go down ta da station tomorrow dey'll let us talk ta her, maybe we can-"

"Murph, she's in federal custody dey're not gonna let her talk ta us or let her have visitors. We can't just go walking t'rough da front door like we can when Roc gets arrested. T'ink about it, she's been living here for da past 6 months or so and most everyone around here has either seen her or talked ta her at some point in time. How many times has she been down ta da bar with us? How many times has she interacted with Doc and the rest of da boys giving everyone in dere da impression dat she was normal? I want ta see her as much as you do, but we have ta keep our distance. News like dis will spread like wildfire; she will be ostracized by everyone here even if dey don't know who she is. I hate looking at it dis way, but she's taken a lot of da heat off of us by turning herself in; we're no longer da daily headline."

"How could she keep somet'ing dat big from us?"

The question was a rhetorical one, but his brother answered anyway.

"Maybe she didn't wanna let on ta how fucked up her past really was. Den again, she has no idea who we are or what we do. If it came down to it, I don't t'ink I could put her on her knees eit'er. Guess she was right t'ough dat dere is a lot she's not telling us. Funny how it works both ways."

"I have an even bigger problem on my hands t'ough den dat. When I was talking ta Ma dis morning, I told her dat I t'ought she may have been da one fer me."

"Ya've only known her just shy of six months, how can ya be certain of dat? Most of what we know about her is from t'ird party insight; we've never asked her da questions dat we wanted to let alone take da time ta learn more about her fer ourselves."

"I'm well aware of dat. Dere were times when she'd come up ta da hospital, bringing food or books with her fer me and we'd just talk until she'd have ta leave or you'd have a changing of da guard. Da times she'd stay da night, she'd climb in da bed next ta me and just fall asleep from sheer exhaustion; she'd wake up in a cold sweat but da nightmares were never as bad as da one she had dis morning. Wanted ta tell ya later dat morning when ya came inta work the day of me accident dat I got her ta laugh at 6 in da morning. She never laughs unless she's been drinking and Roc starts in with da bad jokes."

"She's pretty ticklish on her stomach if ya ever wanna see her laughing dat early in da morning again, although if ya do dat da laughs turn into screams. Old Mrs. Súileabhán started hitting da floor below us with her walker telling us ta keep it down when I discovered dat one."

"I'll keep dat in mind."

"Anyt'ing else ya wanna add?"

"Got some t'ings da I need ta figure out; right words ta say and all dat."

Murphy shut down the rest of the conversation after putting his boots on and grabbing his pea coat off the back of the couch, giving one of the cats a scratch on the head before he walked out of the apartment. The news reports never said which station she turned herself in at, but he figured it had to have been one that was closest to home, especially if Smecker was involved in the case. He knew he probably wouldn't be getting a thing out of Smecker but he could try to find out something.

* * *

"Never fucking thought she'd be capable of doing something like this. She did a damn good job helping us out with that cold case, just never imagined her skills were due to past experience." Duffy's was the voice that broke the silence between the three of them as they listened in on the recorded conversation.

"Why do you think she did it? The Spic bartender I can understand; boyfriend's dead and she's possibly looking for revenge. The arson and bar patrons going up in flames, that's just fucking weird."

"Green Beans, just shut up. You were no good in your guesses about those Russians a year ago and you're no better at doing your job now. If you want to start throwing out possibilities, maybe you should read into her file a bit more. She doesn't have a single charge against her prior to this, not even a damn traffic ticket."

"I hate saying it, but I wouldn't be surprised if these Saints came after her. This kind of shit is right up their alley."

"Brian, we've been working The Saints case with Smecker for the last year while he's been trying to get enough evidence against Yakavetta to bring him to trial. Every one of their targets has ties to the mob and more importantly…" Dolly was cut off by Smecker's pointed look as he got up from his chair. "I need to talk to her, get something straightened out."

* * *

"Agent Smecker, we've been at this game of back and forth for the last four or five hours, do you mind if we take a break from all of this? I've gotta take a piss and I'm sure you are more than ready for a smoke break." My yawns were becoming more frequent the longer I sat shackled to this chair and I was trying desperately to ignore the grumblings of my still empty stomach.

"I'll have someone escort you to the bathroom."

The tape recorder shut off with a loud click and I watched Smecker get up from his chair, stretching his back and afterwards reach into the interior pocket of his suit jacket for his cigarette case. He glanced over his shoulder, looking at whoever was on the other side of the glass. A knock sounded a few seconds later and we were greeted by Dolly's face. He walked in, unsure of how exactly to proceed. I watched him crouch down with a key in hand to un-cuff my ankles. Dolly took a gentle hold on my elbow and helped me to my feet much to my relief. It was nice to finally be able to stand as I felt the blood rushing down into legs and feet.

"Could you hold up a minute? Sitting in that chair all afternoon, my feet kind of fell asleep on me."

Dolly nodded and waited for me get a little bit of feeling back into my limbs before escorting me out of the room.

"I thought female officers were supposed to escort females to the bathroom? Make sure they don't try to pull the wool over their eyes."

"They are, but I needed a word with you when you were done. Officer Meyer is taking one of our frequent fliers down there now and agreed to keep an eye on you while you did what you have to do."

"I appreciate you trying to be modest but like I said earlier I'm tired. No one around here has to worry about me trying to do anything stupid."

We stopped just short of the bathroom door and were greeted by, who I was assuming to be, Officer Meyer. My handcuffs were removed and the officer followed me inside; one of the two stalls was already occupied and the smell that rose up from the drains was sickening. I was thankful now that my stomach was still empty. I closed the door to the stall and did the best I could to make this a speedy process however the occupant of the stall next to me began shouting and cursing in a drunken haze. Flushing the toilet, I was hoping that I never had to see the inside of that bathroom ever again. God, I fucking hate using public bathrooms; so fucking filthy!

As I stood at the sink washing my hands, I caught a glimpse of Officer Meyer in the mirror unlock the occupied stall and pull a woman out who had passed out with her underwear down to her feet and her mini-skirt climbing up more than it probably ever should. The head of hair was more than distracting but as Officer Meyer adjusted her latex gloves to help the woman get her clothes back on she woke up from her brief episode of unconsciousness and threw her head back.

"Hey, don't I know you from somewhere?" Her words were slurred as she wobbled from side to side, not paying the least bit of attention to what the officer was doing.

"Um, I don't-"

"You hang out with that worthless boyfriend of mine down at the bar with his friends, don't you? You're not fucking Rocco on the side in between fucking those two Micks, are you?

"Donna, you need to sober up. I'm only going to tell you this one time and one time only. I am not fucking Rocco, I could never do that. I don't fuck married men and I don't fuck men who have girlfriends or fiancés even if they do deserve better and prefer to settle."

"Ladies that is enough. Ma'am if you're finished in here you need go back out there."

I walked out of the bathroom to find Dolly in a hushed, deep conversation with Duffy and Greenly; his hands were in his hair tugging away it. His face was a mix of confusion, surprise, and something else that I could not quite place at the moment. I only caught the tail end of their conversation as I waited patiently to be taken back to the interrogation room.

"We know the boys, what makes you think that they're gonna let any part of this thing slide? They're either on their way or they're already here waiting outside with the media to strike."

"But we got no way of knowing; all of their other targets so far have been men with dealings in the mafia. We don't know what their code is when it comes to women."

Before Greenly could respond with the realization that struck his features, Duffy caught a glimpse of me waiting and patted him on the shoulder, dragging him off in another direction as Dolly took a few large strides to cover the space between us.

"So what is it that you needed to find out?"

"Do Connor or Murphy know you're here?"

"How do you know the twins?"

"I asked you first."

"No, but take into consideration that Smecker's name was mentioned as being the lead investigator on this case it won't take them long to figure out where I am. How do you know the twins?"

"Day after St. Patrick's day last year we got a call for a couple of dead guys in an alley. It was the alley between your building and the one next to it where the fire escape is. Greenly was just fresh out of the academy and trying to stretch his wings. Smecker showed up and our Chief told us that they were connected to the Russian mob which made it a Federal matter and that Smecker was in charge with our full cooperation. Had Green Beans get him a café latte with a twist of lemon and sweet 'n' low.

"Connor and Murphy showed up here not long after the bodies had been taken to the morgue. Green Beans decided to open that loud mouth of his after Smecker went on a rant. Basically said that they were scared, like two little bunny rabbits but said we should put a potato on a string and drag it through South Boston. The boys came in right in the middle of his spiel, Connor was hanging on to Murphy because of his leg. Murphy piped in that we'd have better luck with beer. They were never charged and the papers hailed them as The Saints of South Boston. They've invited us to have drinks with them at McGinty's, and on occasion we've joined them.

"We were hanging out with them just before Christmas and they kept rambling on about a redhead they had met who could drink Murphy under the table and give Connor a damn good run for his money. Doc would try to fill in the gaps where he could but you know how he is. Green Beans then asked them to describe what this mystery woman looked like. Their friend Rocco offered instead to show us a picture that had been taken a few days prior; told us that it was taken at a party that he and Doc had gotten invited to. Something about a celebration to the end of her first semester at school. Connor yanked the picture out of Rocco's hands and exclaimed that it was you they were failing miserably at describing."

"So how is Greenly's comments relevant to all of this?"

"He was a rookie, just transferred from another department and was trying to prove himself. Smecker shut that shit down pretty damn quick. Guess he was trying to teach him a lesson in appearances; not everything appears to be what it seems. Green Bean's theory on the Russians was that they were serial crushed by some huge guy. Smecker came in like he owned the fucking place and threw that theory out the window inside of five minutes."

"You three aren't going to get into any major trouble for all of this, are you? I mean I did blatantly lie about who I was and you had no way of knowing that I'd go back to my natural hair color."

"We'll probably get some sort of reprimand but it shouldn't be too bad. Besides, the picture up on the wall was going on three years old. Granted the camera is supposed to add 10 pounds, you look like you've lost at least 30 or 40 and between you and me, you look better as a redhead than you do as a blonde."

"I know that you all have a job to do, but I also want to thank you for not man-handling me this morning."

"You willingly turned yourself in and you were cooperating. Don't you think it makes sense that when you turn yourself in that whoever the arresting officer is would do their best to try and make the entire situation as stress-less as possible? Besides that you said you were tired and honestly you looked it. You had no more fight left in you keep hiding in plain sight."

"If you see the twins could you let them know that I'm sorry? Murphy will probably have one of you yell at me and tell me to stop being sorry all the fucking time and Connor will probably ask why or sorry for what. The simple answer to that would be sorry for keeping secrets. Also, if you see Rocco, could you let him know that Donna's here? She'll probably call him anyway asking him to bail her out but you never know. Maybe he finally grew enough balls to say enough is enough."

We made it back to the interrogation room to find it empty. My best guess would be that Smecker was still on his smoke break and my attorney was dousing himself in more of that god awful smelling cologne. Of all the public defenders in Boston, they had to send the one who could not take the hint that there was such a thing as too much. Smecker made the comment that for someone who dressed in Armani, wore a Rolex, and carried a briefcase he could afford to buy some inexpensive, yet decent smelling cologne. Smecker was not far off the mark with that one, although he did leave out the fact that he could also afford to buy himself a stick of deodorant; his shirt was showing the evidence of his nervousness the longer we sat and the more answers I gave.

"Do you think if we light a candle or something the room will explode?" I laughed, watching Dolly's eyes go wide as he attempted to cover his nose with part of his suit jacket.

"I'm just gonna let you stand outside the door until everyone gets back inside. How in the hell have you and Smecker been able to stand that smell the past five hours?"

Even with the door wide open to allow the pungent odor to dissipate, it was still over-powering.

"Don't know about Smecker, but I've been gagging on that smell since he first walked in. You know how some people are kind of sensitive to smells and when it gets to be too much they start getting sick? I wanted to throw up when he first walked in; didn't think that feeling would be coming back so soon, especially after the shit that I went through early this morning."

The sound of a shoe scuffing the floor as it made its way down the hall stopped our conversation. My attorney was making his way back to the interrogation room and the closer he got to Dolly and I, the stronger that overpowering smell got. He reached a hand out, catching my arm and all but dragged me back into the confinements of the room.

"Sorry Detective, but we need to talk strategy before that FBI agent comes back, so if you'll excuse us-"

"I can't leave you alone in here with her until I've got her fully locked up. Don't want Smecker to have to come back here and find a dead body on the floor."

Dolly followed me into the room and waited for me to take my seat before crouching down once more to shackle my feet to the floor and to re-thread the chains around my waist that ensured that my hands would not only be in plain sight but were immobilized. As he turned on his heel to leave, I stopped him before he could leave the threshold with a small request or two.

"Remember what we talked about with the twins, make sure Duffy and Greenly know if they see 'em before you do. Would it be possible to turn a fan on or something in here, too? Something fucking stinks like a pig's ass in summertime."

His face worked its way into a smirk and he said he would see what he could do before closing the door behind him, leaving me in here with stinky who decided that now would be a good time to open his mouth and tell me that I was not obligated to answer every question that was asked of me.

"Well gee, no shit Sherlock, I'm well aware of that but don't you think that the more cooperation they have on my part the easier for everyone it'll be in the end? We both know that Smecker's going to the prosecutor with this as soon as he can and they may take into consideration my behavior in this room when it boils down to what kind of sentence or plea bargain they can come up with."

"What did you say to that detective while I was out? You weren't talking about the case, were you? You realize that if you told him anything he can turn right around and use that against you."

"Again, no shit Sherlock. Do you honestly think I'm _that_ stupid? Did I just walk into the place with a sign taped on my back and a dunce cap on my head? We were talking about a couple of mutual friends of ours. They worry about me sometimes, as good friends should, and I never told them that I was coming here. I never told them anything about Utah. I told them to watch the news tonight at 5 when I was allowed my one phone call and was telling Dolly that if one or both of them showed up to let them know that I was sorry for keeping secrets from them. A good relationship should be based on trust and communication, not secrets, lies, and silence."

Before my attorney could respond, the door opened and Smecker walked back inside carrying with him a floor fan much to my relief.

"Dolly said that you had requested this be brought in, seems a reasonable request to me considering the air conditioning in here broke about four months ago and the Chief still hasn't signed off on the papers to get someone in here to fix it. Let's just hope no one decides to go creeping through the vents; that James Bond shit never works in real life."

* * *

Murphy walked around aimlessly mulling over the news story in his head once more. He never would've taken her for the kind of person who would commit arson, murder 20 people, and torture someone to death. Actually, he wouldn't put it past her to set fire to something in their apartment but it'd only be to get some warmth in the room as opposed to whatever the reason was behind setting fire to a bar. These were just the points the news touched on, who knows what else she's accused of that they couldn't talk about. Her mugshot and the look in her eyes made it seem all the more real. Connor said it best at the Sin Bin that night they took out Vincenzo, "evil men, dead men." This was all foreign territory for him and he knew he had to make a choice.

 _Shout-out to Valerie E. Mackin for going through this a couple of times. Hope you all enjoy! To those celebrating Thanksgiving, Happy Thanksgiving to you all!_


	31. Chapter 31

_Hope everyone enjoyed their Thanksgiving and for those who went shopping on Black Friday I hope no one was seriously injured. To those who went out today to support your local small businesses, thank you! We are approaching the beginning of the end to this story so the chapters that follow after this may be slightly longer than what I am used to posting. If you would like to see a continuation of this story, whether it's in the form of one shots or something else, let me know._ _Happy readings to you all and as always, if you like what you're reading be sure to drop a few lines in the box at the bottom of the page. Feel free to PM me with any suggestions you may have._

 **Chapter 31**

"Fuck, you again? Don't you ever get tired of coming here and causing trouble for us? What'd you do this time, kill 10 mobsters in the presidential suite of one of the Hiltons?"

Murphy's eyes went wide at the comment. Had the stupidity that Greenly displayed been a front for the last year and he's finally figured out who they were and what they did?

"I need ta talk ta Smecker, is he in?"

The night Roc got his finger shot off by that old man he clearly remembered watching the newscast that night. Smecker was being interviewed saying he felt confident that they were closing in on their suspects. Rocco had shut the small television set off in the kitchen while Connor commented that Smecker was a very sharp man; if hadn't figured them out yet, he would. Rocco felt that Smecker was a liability and Murphy sat nervously willing his fingers to function properly to light the cigarette between his lips. It's true that he thought Smecker was a good man, especially for getting them off the hook with the whole Checkov thing but now he wished he had a cigarette to calm himself down a bit more. Maybe coming here was a bad idea.

"He's still in the interrogation room talking to that crazy bitch who turned herself in today. I didn't even recognize her with that red hair of hers though; funny that she's been hiding in plain sight this whole time and no one's ever made mention of it until now."

"Greenly, just shut da fuck up and get Smecker before I go in dere meself."

"Fine, just hold your horses. He's been in there with her since this morning so I'm sure he's due for another smoke break. It's a fucking shame though that she's in this situation; she would've made it really far working here with our forensics team."

"Greenly!"

"Okay, okay, geez what's with everyone telling me to shut the fuck up today?"

"It's what ya need ta do, dat's why." It came out more as mumbling rather than muttering.

Murphy watched him disappear from his desk. While he waited, he would stop and talk with a few of the other detectives as they passed by. As he wandered around aimlessly, he spotted the pair of desks that Dolly and Duffy sat at and decided to have a seat and prop his feet up while he waited for Greenly to return. A quick glance up at the clock that hung over the interrogation room that he and Connor sat in a year prior read a little after 7:00. Two hours after the broadcast and he still wasn't entirely sure of the decision he had come too.

"He's waiting for you in room 2; he says you need to make it quick. He's got a lot of shit going on with her case and apparently, she's getting into some pretty gory details and he doesn't want to miss a second of it. Says it's bad enough that if those Saints are anywhere around, they'd probably drop her then drop lead." Greenly told him, grabbing him by the back of the arm and dragging him to where Smecker was waiting.

The door closed behind them with a not so subtle click. The pair waited until Greenly's footsteps died before breaking the awkward silence.

"Murphy, you've got to make this quick tonight; I'm up to my elbows in this mess that girl's created and I still have more shit to wade through before I can even begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel."

"Red called us and told us ta watch da news tonight. We watched it and here I am; I just need ta see her one last time before anyt'ing happens ta her."

"Are you trying to tell me that you know this girl and you never knew who she was? You had better start talking otherwise after I get done with her I'm coming after you and Connor next."

Murphy watched Smecker carefully as his face slowly changed from a look of confusion to one of anger and realization. Connor was right that Smecker was a sharp man and was more than certain himself that this man would figure them out.

"Ya figured us out, huh?" The words came out slowly as he tried to prepare himself for someone to barge through the door and slap a pair of cuffs on him. What he got though was nothing short of shocking.

"Yeah, took a while but I figured that shit out months ago. No one else knows about it right now but I can quickly change that, for better or worse. I had an epiphany of sorts not too long ago and I wound up in a confessional. I've been doing this job for 15 years and in all that time I have never seen anyone do what you guys do. It's like you have God's permission or something. What you do is necessary. There are miles of red tape these cocksuckers can slip through and there's not a fucking thing I can do about it except to gather enough evidence to bring them to trial. Even then it's not enough to get them locked away for a significant amount of time. It may not seem like it, but I am on your side and I am helping you. Now, tell me what you know about that girl in there."

"She moved here about 8 months ago, lives on da t'ird floor of da building we live in. We didn't meet her until October when she was da victim of a mugging. Dolly, Duffy, and Greenly all came over ta her place da next day and interviewed her; dey took her gun ta run some sort of tests on it den gave it back ta her. Connor and I, we didn't find out who she was until da news came on tonight. Her sister came to town yesterday, but left dis morning; she told us everyt'ing she knew about what happened in Utah and after she came back home. If da news is true about what she's done, I don't t'ink I could ever put her on her knees and pull da trigger. Promise me dat not'ing in dis room will be disclosed ta anyone else; I know ya probably won't let me see her but can ya let her know dat I still want ta help her? She doesn't need prison time ta t'ink about her transgressions; she needs professional help."

"Are you suggesting that I offer her a plea deal? Information on everything she's done in exchange for a lifetime locked away in an institute? Based on everything she's told me so far she's looking at a minimum of 25 years for each murder and another 30 or so for each crime against humanity. Add it all up and she's looking to do at least a couple of life sentences behind bars; and you're asking me to get her institutionalized? You must be some kind of crazy to be asking that for her."

"Ya wouldn't be da first ta call me crazy today. I do have one question t'ough, if she was wanted by da F.B.I. den why didn't anyt'ing come up when dey ran ballistics on her gun? Surely dey would've dusted fer prints ta make sure hers were da only set."

"I asked her that the very same question myself, and you know what she told me? She told me that everything we have pointing the finger at her is all based on circumstantial evidence. She has us by the balls and she knows it; the only thing we have is a partial left pinky on file for these crimes and by partial I mean we only have the tip of a left pinky. This case is 3 years old and all we have to go off of is a tiny partial print and drawings of black roses that were taken from her ex-boyfriend's home. Unless she openly confesses to everything the only thing I'll be able to do is wait until she fucks up. Look, you need to get going so I can finish up in there. I'll let her know you stopped by though."

* * *

"Róisín, I'm being paid by the state to represent you in this case. I can help you, but you have got to start telling them the truth about what you did. You know you murdered those people, you know you tortured a few of them to death. You have to confess your crimes."

"Don't _ever_ call me Róisín again, do you understand me? Only one person in my life was _ever_ allowed to call me Róisín and he's dead. If you want to address me, you call me Red. I did _nothing_ wrong; I did _not_ murder those people and I have _never_ tortured another human being in my life no matter how deserving they were of it, do I make myself clear?"

Before my attorney could answer, Agent Smecker returned to the room, closing the door behind him and resumed his seat. Pressing record on the device that sat on the table, he began his line of questioning again.

"Smecker, I need you to look me in the eye and tell me whether or not you think I've been lying during the course of the past 9 hours. Look me in the eye and tell me right now."

"Ms. Perkins, in all honesty, I think you are telling me the truth. If I could, I would hook you up to a polygraph test and we could go through every single question again but a polygraph test is not admissible into evidence in a case like this. Why do you ask?"

"You're fired, get the fuck out of here. You don't care about helping those who hire you to defend them, regardless of whether or not you get your pocket lined by the state or them personally. You only want to help me so you can help yourself live a lavish lifestyle paid for by taxpayers."

"Does this mean you're willing to talk to me without the presence of a lawyer? You understand that by revoking this right that you can no longer get your case re-tried or a somewhat decent plea deal, right?"

"I understand, just get this douchebag out of here, then we can really get down to business. You're going to get all of the details that I've been leaving out. I never meant for the past 9 hours to be a set-up but I had to know for sure that you believed me."

My attorney slammed his briefcase closed and left with an irritated huff. It was like a breath of fresh air in the room and I meant that quite literally. For someone who was being paid by the state to represent a supposed criminal, you would think that he could afford to smell a little nicer rather than a sewer rat coming up after the snow has melted.

"Thank God, I never thought that smelly bastard would leave. You think if we hang a bunch of car fresheners and pop open a few boxes of baking soda the smell would improve?"

"It might but I think we'd have better luck just moving to another room and let this one air out."

"Can we? Move to another room, I mean. I think if I stay in this room any longer I'm going to end up getting sick."

Smecker nodded and was feeling at least a bit sympathetic; though I'm sure he was feeling the same way. I had been watching him for some time now since coming back from the bathroom his eyes blinking several times, the urge to fight back the coughs that would threaten his throat as a result of the burning sensation the cologne caused. Aside from my stomach doing flips, I found myself repeating these actions I observed Smecker performing as well as an excruciating migraine from Hell.

Smecker stood from his chair, stopped the recording, and closed the gap between us. My feet were temporarily released from their bindings and I stood carefully to avoid having the blood rushing back to my lower extremities too fast. I don't want my feet falling asleep again on me. He hooked a hand on my elbow and guided me to the door, opening it as a gust of fresh air came bursting through much to my relief.

"Duffy, let them know we're going to be in room 2 if they need me for anything. Have the cleaning crew go in and see if they can get that stench out of there."

At least this new room had a much better smell to it. The air was breathable without the burning sensation to my throat, although there was a faint smell of someone having been in here rather recently. Whatever it was that Smecker was wearing wafted throughout the room, but there was something very subtle, something familiar.

"Have a seat, make yourself comfortable. I will leave the leg restraints off as long as you don't try anything stupid, clear?" Smecker had carried his tape recorder with him to the new room and placed it on the table between us. Pressing record, he leaned back in his chair and waited for me to start.

He is not going to like what he's about to hear, but it was one hundred percent true. I could not trust the looks of that attorney; he just looked too well dressed for my liking and the details that I had to offer could put me in jeopardy if his money was coming from an alternate source.

"Crystal. What do you say we start from the very beginning, hmm? Just disregard everything you have heard the past 10 hours and listen to what I am telling you now. Those 20 or so people that were burnt alive inside the bar was the work of my ex's brother, well half-brother. He quite literally had a thing for his own sister and he went off his rocker when she was finally able to wake herself up from the drug-induced nightmare that she was in. He and his father kept her hopped up on as much meth as her body could handle without killing her. One day while they were out of town, I snuck into the motel room that she was being held hostage in and helped her get out of there. All the drugs aside, her brother probably raped her at least 3-4 times a day, if not more. Anyway, when they came back he went nuts trying to find her and in his rage he barricaded all the doors to the bar shut and lit the whole fucking place up like a Christmas tree. I was sitting in the bed of the truck just thinking and saw the smoke. Went back inside when I heard his father's truck coming down the road. I knew what those tires sounded like when they turned off the asphalt and onto the gravel. I tried to act like nothing was out of the ordinary.

"It had already been about a month or so after my ex died when this all happened so I was still busy trying to wrap my head around it. I had hidden her inside one of the caves before his father had showed up and gave her enough supplies to last about a week, just until things had kind of returned to normal and I could move her to a safer area that had more people and facilities where she can get the help she needed to get off the drugs and to heal, both physically and mentally. I thought that I had more time on my hands to deal with his father but his brother showed up sooner than anticipated. They both ganged up on me and beat me to within an inch my life."

"Why didn't you go to the police after the beating? Tell them what happened? If you were beaten that severely there would been some sort of documentation of the incident; photographs of the injuries, hospital bills, x-rays."

"Those two paid off every cop within a hundred miles, including state troopers just to be able to send their shipments out on schedule. Had I gone to the cops, I'd have been killed on site and tossed over one of the canyons. My ex's father wanted to leave his body lying on the canyon floor where it was and let the coyotes do away with the evidence. My ex was a fucking psycho, but he was my psycho. He was off his fucking rocker when he came home that night just a few hours before he was killed. Must've been 2 in the morning when he came in wearing a fucking gas mask over his face and his hands slathered in someone else's blood. Started telling me about how he killed one of them and started disemboweling him. I think the words he used were more along the lines of 'gutted that motherfucker.' But disemboweled conjures up a slightly different image than gutted, just my opinion though.

"Anyway, said he started throwing the guy's intestines all over the fucking place like how a magician would pull the string of colored handkerchiefs from his sleeve and toss 'em to the crowd-"

I watched the shudder run down Smecker's spine at this extremely disturbing portrait I had just painted for him. The sadistic side of my brain taking over slightly as a hint of a smirk worked its way across my face. I hate to say it, but I think my ex would be elated that I could make someone's stomach do flips with words rather than actions.

"How'd you know it was him and not someone else impersonating him?"

"You spend two years with someone, you learn their habits. First time I ever saw him outside of the caves wearing that fucking gas mask it scared the shit out of me. He got quite a laugh out of it, which was something he rarely ever did. Besides, it wasn't the first time he woke me up wearing the damn thing at that hour of the morning. Sometimes he'd do it just to scare me, sometimes he just wanted to wear it while he was pounding me through the mattress. Then there were the times he wanted to be extra kinky. He'd call and tell me to meet him somewhere; I'd get out there and he'd sneak up behind me, scare the daylights out of me, and fucked me senseless on any surface that would suffice."

I paused and couldn't help the laugh that came bubbling to the surface. The fact that there was something I found to be comical about all this and the look on Smecker's face could be a testament to how truly fucked up I am.

"I'm not laughing at the fact that he killed people and did what he did. It's more of a fondness of memories that come to mind when I start thinking about him. His truck had a very distinctive sound to it, which was how I knew he was home. That and he had the flood lights turned on. Kind of hard to sleep with that much light making its way through the bedroom window. Sometimes, he would come home and just sit out in the truck with the lights turned on just to see my shadow on the wall. He hated it when I'd start getting ready for bed, I knew he was out there and I just let him watch; teasing him until he finally got enough nerve to come in the house and claim what was his. I know, get back on point, right? He came tearing through the house like a damn animal so by the time he made his way to the bedroom I was already up and mentally preparing myself for a couple of different scenarios to play out. Naturally, he got all the sex he wanted until he was sated and while he was lying next to me smoking his cigarette, he started telling me what had happened.

"That was his idea of a good time when I wasn't around and despite all of that, I loved him too much to just let his father do that to him. His father hated me for making that phone call for them to pick his body up but I couldn't just leave him out there to rot and fester in the sun. Call it selfish but I wanted some little piece of normalcy to hang on to and I spent a good chunk of the money he had tucked away to have him buried in a place that not even his old man knew about. I went out there last year to visit his grave and I would like to go again this year."

"We'll see, depends on how I feel after we're done for the night. What was your reaction to all of this? Surely you couldn't have been comfortable with all of this information."

"Like I said, I spent two years with him. I got desensitized to it all. The feeling of being scared, of dread, kind of went out the window after the first six months or so. Shit, he started so many fights that it was almost a daily occurrence that he'd come home with someone else's blood on his hands. He told me about so many people he killed that I just got numb to it all. I'm sure you're aware that I helped the three stooges on a cold case a few months ago. Even they were a bit surprised at how strong of a stomach I had to be able to withstand the smells of a rotting corpse coming out of the ground. Living out in the middle of nowhere you get used to the smell of rotting roadkill, not much difference between that and a body that's been buried."

"What about the girl who pushed him over, what happened to her body?"

"Don't know, don't care. She killed my boyfriend, why the fuck should I give a damn about what happened to her body? For all I care, I hope the damn coyotes had themselves a feast and the vultures enjoyed the leftovers. Too bad she wasn't Prometheus and she couldn't regenerate what was lost overnight because I'd pay an arm and a leg just to see her live through that torture on a daily basis. That's how I felt then and I still feel that way now. I'm sure there are people out there that you've encountered that make you feel the same way."

"Please continue; I'm sorry to say that this sounds like another Lifetime movie but so far you have a pretty convincing tale to explain the mass murders and the arson. Tell me about the torture."

"One of my ex's most loyal friends showed up at the house while I was getting my ass beat to a bloody pulp. He was just about the only person my ex could trust to leave alone with me in a room because he knew that he wouldn't touch me or even look at me. After my ex died, he would check in on me every day to see how I was doing. That was his job when my ex would have to leave town for whatever reason: check in on me and report back. You know, keeping tabs on me, making sure I wasn't fucking around with someone else behind his back or folks weren't causing any problems for me.

"I know it's off point, but he went out of town for a week to oversee a shipment that was supposed to rake in a few hundred thousand dollars. He had only been gone three days before he closed the deal and came flying back home. His buddy told him about some tourists that were hassling me over him not being in the shop to fix their car when smoke started pouring out of it. I tried telling them he was a couple of towns over picking through the junkyard looking for parts for another customer but they weren't having it. I just ran the office for him, filling out the paperwork, taking payments, that sort of thing. I called his buddy to at least get the car towed into the shop that way it'd be waiting for him when he got back. He kicked their asses out and kept me company until I locked the shop up for the night. We walked over to the bar since it was just across the parking lot and of course those asshats were already at a table causing trouble for the old man. The three of us got to talking about something, don't remember what, but the next thing I know someone's got a hand on my ass and the old man's taking his trusty bat out from under the bar making quick work of the guy's arm. His old man didn't like me, thought I was too much of a distraction, but he wasn't gonna let anyone touch me when he was out of town. Some of his other buddies were already in the bar so all five of them took the asshats outside, squared off with them in the parking lot. The old man disappeared into the kitchen after telling me I should go home and stay there for the night.

"I woke up to those damn flood lights shining in through the bedroom window, checked the clock and saw it was 3 in the morning. I was already half dressed when he came barreling in through the door. He didn't care in the least; grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the house and into the truck before taking off again. He didn't say a fucking word to me until we got to the caves. Told me that both his old man and his buddy called him telling him what happened; that he had a surprise for me of sorts. It was just easier to get out of the truck and follow him into the caves rather than to question him. All three of the asshats were in the cave; bloodied, beaten, bruised, shirts torn from their bodies, hands shackled in chains above their heads. I was told to have a seat on the table. He took his knife out and pointed to each in turn, asking me which one it was that grabbed me.

"Long story short, the one who grabbed me got his fingers cut off knuckle by knuckle until all that was left were nubs, got his tongue ripped out of his mouth, and a few other things done to him. The other two also received a similar treatment, then they were all three forced to watch me get jackhammered through the table. He wanted the last thing they saw was me coming and the sheer ecstasy plastered across my face. When he was finished with me for the time being he took his knife and, in turn, sliced them open straight down the middle from neck to navel watching in fascination as their guts spilled out. Once he was satisfied with his work he told his buddies to clean the mess up, grabbed my hand and took me back to the truck. Again, he never said a fucking word to me the whole way home. He pulled the truck up to his usual spot and got out; I followed suit and went back to bed. He stayed up long enough for a quick shower before coming to bed. His idea of a kiss was to clamp down on my neck until he broke the skin; fucking little vampire. Told me, before he drifted off to sleep, that I did good by calling his buddy and asking him to stay with me until I closed the shop up and that the line about being at the junkyard was one he was going to have to use in the future. Next day, we went to the shop; he dismantled the car, taking what parts he could salvage out and tossing them into the pile he kept out back and towed the rest of it off to the junkyard. Appearances alone, it looked like a normal thing but it was just part of the final clean-up."

"Can we get back on topic here? As much as I enjoy hearing you reminisce about being a witness to multiple murders, I have a job to do. You still haven't told me what happened when this loyal lap dog came in the house and found you lying in a heap on the floor."

"The loyal lap dog, as you call him, knocked the brother out with one hit but the old man was more of a challenge; he was able to finally do it though and tied him up to one of the kitchen chairs. He was the one who tortured the old man to death; made him pay for every mark, every bruise, every ounce of hurt that he placed on me. I don't know what happened to the brother and I honestly don't care to know. The knife that was found in the house, the one with the partial pinky print? Belonged to my ex's friend; he tried to wipe the whole thing clean before he left but I guess he missed a spot. He had gotten me out of there after the old man was dead. He tried to talk me into leaving the house so I wouldn't have to see what he was going to do, but I insisted on staying and watching it all happen. He took me back to his place so that he could get me cleaned up as best as possible.

"He was telling me, while he cleaned some of the crusted blood off my face, that he had known my ex for a long time and had seen him do a lot of shit over the years but he never thought he'd live to see the day where he'd let someone, let alone a woman, get to him as much as I did. Said he never imagined I'd have a strong enough stomach to withstand watching someone get murdered or put up with as much as I did. I remember when he let out that nervous laugh and said that if my ex could walk through his front door at that moment and saw the two of us like that, me all bloody and him trying to help get it cleaned off that he would shoot first and ask questions later. From my understanding, when I wasn't with my ex he would go gallivanting through town and tell everyone I was his and anyone who so much as looked at me was gonna get what was coming to them. He was a possessive fucker that was for damn sure. If his words weren't enough, he'd proudly put my neck on display for everyone to see. The faded scars of his name are still there."

The worst qualities in the world that a man could possess and I fell in love with a man who had them all. God, I fucking miss him!

I sighed heavily as a flood of memories flashed through my mind. Closing my eyes briefly, I laid my forehead on the table forcing the tears back that threatened to fall. Lifting my head back up, I sniffled a bit and tried to re-focus on the question that I was trying to formulate.

"Why, after everything was said and done, did your agency blame all of this on me? What evidence was there to point the finger at me?"

"I had this called in and brought up from headquarters when the three stooges called and told me that you turned yourself in."

He produced several boxes of potential evidence on the small metal table, flipping lids open left and right. I didn't even notice them when we came in, but apparently it was something Smecker knew he was going to need; I guess the stooges brought them in earlier today. The "ah ha" moment came when he produced several ragged drawing books rubber-banded together; I knew those books all too well and had always wondered what became of them when I tried to go back for them.

"I would say the first 15 or so of these are nothing but spiders but when I got to this one here," he paused pulling one of the skinnier books from the stack, "the spiders started morphing into bleeding roses. Each one was entitled 'Róisín Dubh' and the last page of this book had an extremely rough sketch of a woman's backside with this same bleeding rose tattooed on her lower back. We started asking folks around town if they knew anyone with that tattoo and one person was able to get a police sketch artist to draw up what they remembered. We then took that to the state police and asked them if they could scan the image against a facial recognition program to see if there were any hits. Your mugshot came up as being an 89% positive match; the nail in the coffin was the picture of your tattoo that the police took when you were first arrested. The partial print didn't match any of yours that were on record but everyone in that town was so sure that it was you just getting revenge that our agents at the time went with that."

"I was too young at the time to understand what a fool I was to get in the truck with him that night we were arrested. He always made sure that what he did would never get me into trouble, but that night he had taken more meth than I had ever seen him do; he all but threw me into the truck and just started driving like a maniac. We got pulled over by state patrol when he went through a sobriety check point, ironic don't you think? He was arrested on the drug charges and transporting, I got charged with paraphernalia because a tiny piece of whatever he used to make the shit fell out of his pants pocket and was found next to my leg. He was screaming at them to let me go, that all of it was his, but they wouldn't listen to him. I had never been arrested before a day in my life and I had never felt so scared before then."

"According to your record here, you've never been arrested before prior to today."

"Changed my name after we got out. If you get the application from the three stooges that I filled out for the internship position, you'll find the arrest record for that incident. The judge dismissed the charges; my ex took the fall for it since it was his to begin with and he explained to the judge, as nicely as was possible, that everything that happened that night was his fault and that if he hadn't been as fucked up as he was he never would've put me in the line of fire. If you could see his record you'd understand that for him to play nice like that was all my idea; he threw a goddamn temper tantrum when I told him if he wanted everything to work out the way he wanted it to then he had to do what I told him to."

"I'll have someone look into that. What can you tell me about these books?"

"He already had most of these books filled up with drawings of his spiders when I met him, but after we both got out he made sure that nothing like that would ever happen to me again. The bleeding rose was the first tattoo that I got; I had just turned 18 when I got it as a reminder to myself that I needed to leave the past in the past in order to move forward. He didn't know I had it until after we got out but when he saw it he kind of became fascinated and then obsessed with it. He got pretty messed up again one night and when he came home he started destroying the house. Probably didn't help matters any that his old man started laying into him again about being arrested while carrying his product around. The only thing I could think of to calm him down was a song that I had learned while I was in school called 'Róisín Dubh.' I had to hold him down with all the strength that I possessed and whisper it in his ear, I told him all of it that night in Irish and for some reason it seemed to calm him down pretty quickly."

"What exactly does 'Róisín Dubh' mean and why is it important?"

"Literally it translates to little black rose; I got that tattoo done before I ever spoke a word of Irish. 'Róisín Dubh' was originally a lyric-poem written sometime during the 16th century for the daughter of an earl whose name was Róisín Dubh. He thought I was talking gibberish the whole time and got pissed when he couldn't understand what I was saying; when I told him the English version of it he only got angrier saying that it was stupid that people used to talk like that. I can't say that I blame him though because I hate Old English. Anyway, one night when I fell asleep after he fucked my brains out, I could feel him running the tip of his buck knife along the lines of my tattoo. I distinctly remember him kissing the rose, running his tongue along the streams of tattooed blood. He told me that I would always be his Róisín Dubh. That was when those spider drawings started mutating into bleeding roses.

"I have one last question for you Agent Smecker; is there any way that I can see what evidence there is of these roses that were supposedly carved into those people? I'm not stupid; I heard the news reports from earlier tonight."

"I don't know where the media came up with that one, probably just to get more attention, but these are the photos that were taken after the fire was put out." He paused, opening a manila folder and taking the binder clip off the stack of photos, laying them out on the table for me to see. "The field agent that took these at the time would've noted in her report every little detail; she's a very thorough agent and would've put in her report the most irrelevant things just in case it did become something we could use.

"I think we're done for the night. I probably shouldn't do this or tell you this for that matter but, if I let you go home for the night, will you stay with your neighbors so they can keep an eye on you and make sure you don't skip town on me? With all of the information you've given me I'm going to have our team out in Utah dispatched to collect anything that we might've missed the first time and to track down this friend of yours. Hopefully with the recent breakthroughs in technology we'll be able to prove your story and get this whole mess taken care of."

"How-how-how do you know my neighbors? I don't remember mentioning them at all during the course of this interrogation." The mentioning of one of the twins had my heart skipping a beat. I thought one or both of them may come here but didn't actually think they would carry out the action.

"One of them came up here a little bit ago, that's why I left. He was asking if he could see you one last time before anything happened, was telling me how he knew you and said you were neighbors. Before everything you just told me, I was prepared to have you locked up in a cell here for tonight. Like I said though, I'm going to have our team in Utah dispatched to check into everything. I'm going to put my best field agent on it and have her get this done as quickly as possible. Like you told me earlier, everything we have is circumstantial at this point and there's just too much here that would cause reasonable doubt; if this ever went to trial we'd end up with a hung jury. Just one more question though before we leave: why choose now to turn yourself in?"

"I'm tired of living in fear all the time. I had the worst nightmare that I could remember this morning; it was so ominous that I knew if I didn't do something that people were going to get hurt and they were going to die. I was hoping that maybe if I turned myself in that I could be committed to a psych ward in lieu of being sent to prison so that those around me wouldn't have to suffer from me dragging them down. My neighbors were in the dream I had this morning. In my dream, my ex came back and killed the both of them, and then he whispered in my ear that he missed me. I wasn't sure how I could ever live with myself if anything happened to them."

"Well, c'mon it's late, it's time to go. I'm sorry but I have to leave you in the cuffs until we get in the car. Also, every news outlet is going to be out there with cameras in your face; don't say anything to anyone and keep your head down. We already released a statement saying that you are being taken to an undisclosed location and being held in federal custody until the evidence against you can be verified."

We left the confines of the interrogation room and looking back at the table, I saw the sketch books spread out. I asked Agent Smecker what else was in those boxes that were taken from the house and was told that he was not at liberty to say. I mentioned that when all of this was over, if I could, I at least wanted those sketch books back. Aside from a few kinky toys (including Connor's favorite piece of rope) and a handful of medical instruments, I really had nothing that belonged to my ex. They may have been the deranged drawings of a meth addict but for me they were memories of a better time. A time when he would be at home with me, a time when I would feel absolutely safe, a time when I didn't have to worry about where he was or who's blood covered his hands when he came home at night. Smecker agreed to see what he could do about that but there was no guarantee.

We walked out of the police station and as Smecker had warned, the media was everywhere with their cameras pressed to my face shouting questions over each other, shoving microphones in my face but I said nothing. I was led to an unmarked police car and shoved inside with Smecker climbing in next to me. I was thankful that Dolly was driving the car and also that he knew where Smecker wanted me to be for the night. Before we left the station, they attached an ankle monitor to my leg and let me know that they would have one of the three detectives outside watching my every move. Under no circumstances was I to even leave the confines of the apartment, not even to go out on the fire escape. If I needed food in the loft, I had to give the money to either Connor or Murphy to do the shopping for me.

We arrived home a few minutes later and Smecker escorted me up to their apartment, knocking on the door waiting patiently for one of them to open it from the other side. It sounded like things were breaking in there from another one of their scuffles, but eventually Connor opened the door. I was thankful that Smecker was taller than I was because he made me stand behind like a shadow until I was inside their apartment.

"Look who I brought with me; you have to promise me though that she does not leave this apartment until you both hear back from me, understand? You behave yourself young lady, I don't want to have to take you to an actual prison and force you to stay there until all of this is over."

"No offense but ya know da Saints have never been captured, what if somet'ing were ta happen ta her?" The look on Connor's face was that of sheer confusion and drunkenness.

"She didn't do any of those things that she is being accused of. She looked me dead in the eyes and told me everything. Sure she has her share of problems, but she is not capable of murder and she is not capable of torturing someone to death. She needs to stay here though otherwise I'm afraid that something will happen to her in prison between now and the time it takes to clean this mess up. I'm used to cleaning up your messes, but this is one for the record books. The only thing I can tell you right now though is that once we track down the real killer all of the charges against her will be dropped and she will have a clean record."

I watched as Connor's eyes went wide at Smecker's comment about having to clean up their messes. Smecker had no idea what I was capable of, but I kept my mouth closed. He laid a hand over Connor's shoulder and the two walked out the door. I could still hear their voices on the other side but couldn't make out what was being said though it was something about a discussion he already had earlier with his brother. When Connor came back in, he looked panic-stricken, like a dark family secret had been uncovered and he couldn't wrap his mind around it at the moment. As Connor paced back and forth across the floor, I was left to stand by the door surrounded by my cats and a room of awkward silence. Murphy was nowhere to be found in the open space so it was just me and Connor. Connor let out a sigh as he refocused his attention on me, taking a seat at the kitchen table, his hand making its way to his head as he used it to comb through his hair.

"Why don't ya start with what happened dis morning and go from dere. I need ta know what happened to ya today. Ya really hurt da both of us today Red, and I need ya ta tell me what's going on with ya. Isn't da whole reason why ya started letting us inta yer life was so dat you could know what good men are like and ta know how it feels ta have someone standing behind ya, ta support ya when ya feel as low as ya do now?"

Thanks for the guilt trip Connor. I kept my eyes cast towards the floor as I squatted down to pet the cats. I was happy to see them up here rather than having to ask that one of them go get them for me. The sound of the elevator creaking along its worn out path and drunken ramblings meant that Murphy would be here any second so I had to move away from the door unless I wanted a doorknob in my ass.

"Smecker wouldn't tell me a fucking t'ing-" Murphy's words died on his lips as he came barreling through the door, freezing in his tracks when he saw me perched on the arm of the couch. "I've missed you." He muttered in his drunken haze, throwing his arms around me, pulling me off the couch into his embrace.

Those three words replayed in my mind on a constant loop as I forced back the fear that steadily rose from hearing them. Though Murphy said them, I can still hear it the dark, graveled tone that was my ex's voice.

"When you sober up, I promise to tell you both everything."

"Don't make promises ya don't intend on keeping." Murphy reminded me, unwrapping his arms from around my shoulders and taking me by the hand, dragging me across the room to what I assumed was his bed.

I was a bit surprised that Murphy allowed me to sleep in the bed next to him despite having such a huge secret being kept from him. Though, I think it was more along the lines of he was drunk and just wanted someone to keep him better company than Connor. Then again I could be wrong and he just wanted to (physically) hang on to me for as long as he could until Smecker made up his mind of whether or not I was going to prison for the rest of my life. I curled up next to him once I knew that he was passed out from all of the alcohol and took up the position that I easily fell asleep in during those nights when I stayed at the hospital with him. My only wish for tonight would be that I did not wake up in the morning screaming and being that terrified ever again.

"Please, don't leave me like dat again." He whispered in my ear, draping an arm across my torso and pulling me closer to him. His voice was laced with hurt and I couldn't help but feel guilty all over again.

I caught a glimpse of Connor over Murphy's shoulder as he used a combination of hand signs and mouthed words saying that we needed to talk. I nodded my head in understanding, watching him pick up a pack of cigarettes off the table and throwing his coat on as he made his way past the bed towards the fire escape. The cold wind came blowing in, hitting my back full force and was just as quickly gone with the shutting of the window. Somehow, Murphy managed to draw me closer to him, pressing his face into my neck and throwing a leg over mine. I drifted off into an uneasy sleep as I tried to figure out the right words to say to them. I never meant to hurt either of them with my actions, never meant for any of this to happen. Sorry will never be enough, even if they are willing and able to forgive me.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

"Anot'er nightmare?"

I flopped back down on the bed not realizing that Murphy had his arm situated perfectly where my neck would be. All I could do was nod as I tried to find my voice and keep the tears at bay once more. Closing my eyes, I tried to get my brain to focus on the breathing exercises Ryan had given me nearly a year ago after I booked my first session with him. This one was nowhere near as bad as the one I had the previous night but at least I wasn't screaming and waking the neighbors. I could barely feel the muscles in Murphy's arm moving to operate the fingers that worked to reach my shoulder and pull me into his familiar embrace.

When I was finally calm down enough to start functioning once more, I started becoming more comfortable in his arms until I was finally able to take that sigh of relief. Relief that the nightmare was over for now, relief that I was somewhere familiar, relief that I temporarily had someone to tell me everything was alright. And then that faded scent that was so unique to Murphy rose off the bedding, awakening an insignificant event from earlier this evening. The smell that I could not quite place in that second interrogation room that Smecker and I were in; the scent that was mixed with Smecker's.

"I thought it was you that I smelled while I was talking with Smecker earlier." I breathed him in once more for confirmation, a sigh of contentment escaping past my lips as I relaxed fully in his hold.

Silence filled the air between us, but I could hear his heart beating just a bit faster inside his chest and his breathing changing just a little bit as well.

"Smecker said that one of you stopped by, didn't say which one. Mentioned how we met and the circumstances; mentioned that you wanted to see me one last time before anything happened. Seems like you're getting your chance."

"Why'd ya leave like dat?"

As I was struggling to find the right words to say, one of the cats climbed onto the mattress behind me, climbing over my hip and making space for himself between us; settling in with a loud purr. His brother wasn't far behind and made his way to the head of the bed, curling up on the pillow around my head; his purring just as loud.

"You and Connor were both in the nightmare I had. I got scared and thought that this would be the best option."

"Scared of what?" His fingertips running along my arm, coaxing me to continue.

"That you were both going to leave me. You two are pretty much the only people of importance that I've let in since I moved here and I don't want to lose that. I lied and told Smecker that I thought it was an omen of death. Truth is, I hate being by myself. Any time I let someone get close enough that fight or flight instinct kicks in and I just run. What my ex and I had, it felt right. I can't explain it except to say that it was more than a warm bed to sleep in at night, it was more than having a warm body to lie next to, and it was more than just sex. When he died, it felt like everything was ripped away and I was left with nothing but an emptiness that I've spent the last three years trying to fill. You, Connor, and even Rocco have filled in spaces that have been empty for so long that I was afraid that if you knew anything about my past that you'd leave. I knew I was wanted and I figured if I turned myself in then I wouldn't have to go through that feeling of being left along again."

I couldn't stop the tears as they started falling. Lifting my hand from the ball of fur that lay between us, I reached up to wipe away what I could. Sniffling, I laid my wet fingers against Murphy's chest. I couldn't stop the idea that I was being selfish from formulating but here it sat, ever present and ever ready to tell me that no one could ever want someone like me. That being selfish was a bus pass back to Lonely Heartsville, USA.

"Not going anywhere, told ya just as much last night. If ya need ta hear it every night, after every nightmare, den dat's what I'll do. Connor's around somewhere, but I'll make sure he knows just as well. He needs his time ta decompress, just da same as I did but I've got a feeling dat he already knows."

I nodded my head against his chest, though there was a shred of doubt that still remained despite the sincerity in his voice. I willed myself back to sleep, listening to the purr of the cats and the steady beating of his heart; focusing on the fingertips that continually slid against my arm until my brain shut itself off. If only it could stay like this until dawn I would be content, but the movie reel was just rewinding until the light on the projector flipped back on.

Morning came pretty quickly and though the nightmares still occurred periodically throughout the night at least none of them left me hurling my still empty stomach into the toilet. Somewhere between the second and third nightmare, Murphy sobered up but I was thankful that he kept his word: he would swipe his thumb under my eyes wiping the tears away, he held me, and more importantly he told me that he wasn't going anywhere no matter how bad the nightmares got during the night or how many of them there were. Connor on the other hand was nowhere to be found during the night; he had just come in an hour or so ago, tripping over his own feet. I had no clue where he would've gone or what time he left but wherever it was he had gone to, he must've done some pretty heavy drinking. Murphy mentioned that Connor needed his time to decompress and I guess this was how he chose to do it.

"Could one of you please go downstairs and bring up all the food you can fit into the boxes in the storage closet and could one of you bring up a box of my books and the box of cleaning supplies I keep under the bathroom sink? Oh, and don't forget the toilet brush. Smecker said I'm not allowed to even take a step out onto the fire escape."

"I get why ya need da food, but why do ya need books and cleaning supplies? Are ya going ta start a fire and in need of kindling and lighter fluid?" Connor asked, stepping out of the shower as he wrapped a towel around his waist.

"Very funny smart ass, but if I'm going to be stuck in your apartment all day until Smecker says otherwise then I want to be able to read my books in between making your meals for one. And two, my ass is not going anywhere near that toilet until it's seen the white end of fresh toilet brush. I will violate house arrest and take a piss outside before I sit down on that toilet. Finally, I am not cooking any food on that stove or in that kitchen until its scrubbed free of all that grease build-up and dead gnats."

"Good point; I'll grab da food if you'll grab da books and da cleaning supplies, sound fair?" Murphy asked, shoving a pair of socks on his feet as he sat on the edge of his bed.

"Fine with me, I don't have ta be at work fer anot'er hour or so but I do have ta go ta church. Need ta sort a few t'ings out; maybe da Monsignor has some sound advice."

I watched as Connor took the towel from around his waist, throwing it on the bed and grabbing his boxers off the end. He continued dressing as Murphy started putting his boots on, attempting to tie the laces while the cats tried to reclaim their newfound toy.

"We went yesterday, what da fuck could you have done in less den 24 hours ta warrant anot'er trip ta da confessional?"

"Ya don't wanna know. _You_ weren't in dere long enough ta get everyt'ing off yer chest dat ya needed to. Withholding stuff from da Monsignor and telling half-truths is only gonna get ya inta trouble. If ya ask me yer penance wasn't near enough fer what ya said."

"Yeah, well, no one asked ya. Any special requests while we're down dere? Need anyt'ing in particular?"

"All the meat out of the freezer, all of the cheese out of the fridge, the pepperoni, my peppermint tea, and my birth control off the dresser. It's in a pink case, you can't miss it. Oh, and the bottle of ibuprofen out of my purse."

I watched as the pair walked out, closing the door behind them. The cats still had a full food bowl but their water needed to be changed; not knowing what kind of conditions I was dealing with, I opted to put the water on to boil and then let it cool down in the fridge before giving it to them. There was plenty left in the bowl to hold them over until the pot was cooled. The kitchen was pretty disgusting and looked just like my ex's, minus the drug paraphernalia strewed about. I dug around in the cabinets until I found an unopened box of garbage bags and started throwing empty pizza boxes away. At least now I can see the top of a tiny, round table that went along with the worn out chairs that surrounded it. Dumping the ashtrays was the next item on the list; I figured I could start small and work my way up to the bigger things like the gallon jug of milk that still sat in the fridge with an expiration date of two months ago. As long as I didn't see any roaches scurrying across the floor I think I'd be okay.

"Damn, looks better already! Wait till we call Ma and take all da credit fer da work ya did, she'll be so proud of us." Murphy joked, setting three boxes of food down on the table. I stopped him though before he had a chance to start emptying out the first box.

"My food is not leaving those boxes until I've thoroughly wiped this table down from top to legs. No offense but I must've cleared off at least a half dozen empty pizza boxes and who knows how many ashtrays full of cigarette butts. Connor, could you please take these out to the dumpster with you on your way out? I'm making a pizza tonight for dinner so try not to fill your stomach up too much."

Connor picked up the three trash bags off the floor that I had sitting by the front door, grabbed his rosary off its respective nail, and headed out. Hopefully being left alone with Murphy this time wouldn't result in a repeat of Thanksgiving night. Though after everything I've told him, I think he's learned his lesson about confronting me directly and has taken the road of asking questions to find the answers he seeks.

"Well now dat he's out of da way, why don't ya tell me what all of dat was about yesterday. I leave ta come up here and have a talk with Ma, I come back down and all I find is a note and a bag with about $10,000 in it. What da fuck did ya do ta get dat much money in da first place?"

I wasn't intentionally avoiding the question, however starting from the beginning was going to be easier. I could always answer the follow-up questions later.

"After my ex died, I stayed in Utah for about another six or seven months. Long story short, his brother killed about 20 people by locking them inside of a bar and burning it to the ground and his father was tortured to death by a mutual friend of ours. The F.B.I accused me of doing all of those things based on a very small partial print and claimed that those people in the bar had roses carved into their flesh. Actually, per Smecker, the media came up with that added bit. There were never any carvings on those people. They pointed the finger at me because when they were going through the house they found my ex's sketch books and one of them was almost completely filled drawings of my tattoo. Yes, I have tattoos; 8 of them to be exact but I think you may have been too distracted to even really notice. I tried going back for the books but the day I went, the house was swarming with cops. I just drove past the house, found a spot to turn around, and headed back the way I came. That night, I tried going back again but the house was completely cleaned out. Every nook and cranny that I hid his stuff in had been searched and stripped bare.

"Anyway, they started going through town asking people if the drawings looked familiar and someone talked; they sat down with a sketch artist then ran the drawing through the state's facial recognition system. They got a hit and it came back as being 89% positive that it was me, so they ran with it. I was already half-way home by the time the warrant was issued. The only reason I have a record is because of some shit my ex got me mixed up in but he tried to get them to let me go. The judge eventually dropped the charges against me when my ex took the fall for the whole incident. It was one of the only times he was ever honest about something. Smecker said he was going to have agents out at the Utah branch look for this friend of ours and get his side of the story. If he does right by me, then I won't have anything to worry about: all the charges will be dropped and I get to be free again without having to always be looking over my shoulder."

"What kinda trouble ya get into?" He plopped down on the couch, toeing out of his boots and pulling his shirt over his head.

"It's still freezing ass cold outside, how are you not the least bit cold right now?"

"You should know better den anyone, ya've slept next ta me enough times ta know I'm me own furnace. Don't start changing da subject."

"Wasn't trying to but I find you to be rather perplexing and distracting, but in a good way. He came home one night after working to catch up on a shipment that had fallen behind. It wasn't his fault though, he had work to do at the shop and the cars aren't gonna fix themselves, ya know? He came home completely meth'd out of his mind. He never did it in front of me but he knew that I knew when he would OD and that night he did nearly twice or three times as much as he usually did. Grabbed me by the hand, pulled me out of bed; dragged me through the house and out to the truck. He just took off down road kicking up dust and gravel all over the damn place. Eventually, after he was done with his off roading adventure we got on a regular road and unfortunately for him state troopers set up a sobriety checkpoint."

I watched Murphy to gauge his reaction. He had a look to him like he wasn't sure whether to laugh or to remain quiet and slightly confused. I waved him off, knowing that the urge to laugh was winning out. The second I looked away to retrieve another garbage bag from the box, I heard the laughter erupt, breaking the tension of the room.

"Don't mean ta laugh, but I couldn't help dat one. I mean if ya t'ink about it, Roc's done some pretty stupid shit but he's not stupid enough ta do somet'ing like dat."

"If memory serves me right, you and Connor have done equally stupid shit. You would think that going on a high speed chase with a meth addict behind the wheel would've been a terrifying and sobering experience but the scariest part of the whole thing was when they threw the spike strip out, blowing out both back tires and us fishtailing until he could get the truck stopped. It was an older truck so it didn't have seatbelts; by the time he got it stopped, I was on the floor. I have no idea how I ended up there but I remember him looking at me, almost in horror, as I tried to get back in the seat and being blinded by blood dripping into my eyes. I guess I hit my head on something when I fell but to this day I still can't remember all the details of the chase. He leaned over and helped me back into the seat and that was when the troopers surrounded the truck and pulled us out."

I paused, bringing a hand to my head and tracing over the scar that sat in the middle of my forehead near the hairline. Smoothing my hair back a little, I felt the secondary scar hidden within my hair on the right side, just above my ear. Of the two, the latter was the one that took the longest to heal and was also the more painful one.

"He started screaming at them to let me go; he didn't like anyone touching me unless it was him. Initially, they cuffed me and advised me that I was being detained. They tried to shove words like 'victim' and 'hostage' into my head to try and get him into more trouble. While they were searching the truck, one of those Dudley Do-Right's found something. What that something was, I don't know but they read me my rights and told me I was being arrested and charged with paraphernalia. That was the thing that really set him off. I have no idea how it happened, but I swear he suddenly developed some type of superhuman strength. He bent the handcuffs, broke his wrist, and somehow freed himself to the point that he started lunging towards the cop that had me by the arm and hauling me off to sit in the backseat of the car. It took every single one of them to hold him down until they could get him restrained again but the second time they put the spit bag over his face and strapped his feet together. Three of them had to carry him like a damn piece of luggage to the car and carried him that way into the jail. He could care less how much of a lunatic he was acting, but for me it was embarrassing. I was scared shitless, but at least I wasn't carrying on like a two year old throwing a damn tantrum in the middle of a toy store.

"He kept carrying on like that the entire night. Finally one of the cops had enough and came to the cell they were keeping me in asking if I could try and calm him down. I told them the only he was going to calm down was if they either let me stay with him or vice versa. At first they weren't having it. They wanted to keep the sexes separated."

"What changed t'eir minds?"

"Some drunk they put in there with him started screaming for help. They slammed my cell door shut and I watched as they dragged him out. I couldn't hear what all was being said since it was all muffled, but I managed to pick out him telling the drunk that if he ever tried to grab his dick again he rip the guy's throat out. I wouldn't put it past him to do it either. He caught a glimpse of me watching the whole thing unfold from behind a thick piece of glass; I guess seeing me, even from a distance, had a small calming effect on him. One of the female officers came to the door and made a deal with me: if they let him stay with me, could I promise them no more outbursts until we saw a judge in the morning. I told her I couldn't make any guaranties, but that I would try. They had me stand in a corner of the room while they brought him in; almost left the cuffs on him, but they reluctantly took them off at my request.

"We sat together on the small cot the rest of the night. Occasionally, I'd nod off and wake up with my head in his lap but he stayed fairly quiet. They came back in the morning, checking in on us with breakfast and told us we'd be seeing the judge in an hour. He told me that he'd try to talk the judge into getting me off the hook and taking the blame for everything. He threw another tantrum when I told him the only way that would work is if he played nice with others and not talk out of turn or curse everyone out. It surprisingly worked though and I did get my charges dropped. He got sentenced to six months' probation and had to check in with a probation officer every week and had to submit to random drug tests. He was told that if he failed in either area that he'd be arrested and sentenced to at least 5 years in prison. He struggled with it but he kept himself busy when the withdraws would get too bad."

"So what happened between ya dat caused his father ta be tortured ta death?" Murphy had somehow managed to find the laser pointer that I used for the cats to play with. They were currently running around the loft chasing after it, running head first into different pieces of furniture when he shut it off at random.

I, on the other hand, was going through my entire container of disinfecting wipes trying to get this sad excuse of a table cleaned off. I had a garbage bag sitting on the floor next to my foot and was tossing them in left and right. When the table finally met my standards of clean, I started going through the boxes trying to find what I needed for the pizza tonight and left the remainder where it was until I could get to the fridge and freezer. This is _exactly_ how I found my ex's house to be when I moved in.

"My ex and his brother had the same father but different mothers; so they were technically half-brothers. His brother had a sister and he would rape her and push the same drugs into her that they helped to make. Dad and lad went out of town for a while so I took the opportunity to get her out of there; I hid her in one of the caves and then went back home until things calmed down enough that I could get her out of there. Their dad came up to the house while the brother was in town burning the bar down and started accusing me of shit; the brother came up to the house shortly afterward. They ganged up on me and nearly beat me to death with their bare hands; my ex's friend came up to the house to check on me like he did every day. When he saw me lying on the ground he knocked the brother out and once he was finally able to get the old man tied down, he tortured him to death. He did it because he knew that's what my ex would've done. My ex was the complete opposite of you and Connor but he never put his hands on me in anger; yeah, I had marks and bruises but those were all just from sex, there is a difference."

"We've been hearing quite a bit about what yer ex was inta and how he died. Yer sister was telling me too after dat nightmare ya had dat even t'ough he's dead, in yer mind it still feels like yer cheating on him. Two years with one person is a lot of time spent building a relationship like dat and ta have it be over in da blink of an eye hurts. If what I've heard is true about him being inta drugs, murdering, raping, and fucking around on ya den he's lucky he's dead. If he did all of dat den he never deserved ya no matter how much protection he offered ya or how good da sex was."

"He's going to fucking hate me when he finds out."

Most of what I needed for dinner was laid out on the table so I ventured to move further into my cleaning regimen and began to clean the fridge out. Thank god for a strong stomach because I had no idea that spoiled milk, rotten something (I think it used to be some kind of sandwich), and moldy meats and cheeses could produce this much of a noxious, deadly odor.

"Who's gonna hate ya fer what?"

"Before we left last night, I gave Smecker the name of the guy who got me into this shit storm and where to find him. Told Smecker that no matter what happens, I refuse to testify against him; he was doing what he thought was right in order to protect me. If he finds out I gave him up, he'll probably get someone to mail me a pipe bomb or send someone to take me out. We had a pretty strict no snitching policy but I just got so tired of hiding that I couldn't do it anymore."

"Ya said dat like it's happened before."

"I've seen things and I've done things. I'll leave it at that. Could you take this bag out? Another whiff of that and I think I'll end up on the floor."

"So why don't ya ever talk ta Connor about dis?"

"I guess you're a little easier to talk to than Connor. Even though you do sometimes interrupt and ask questions before things are fully explained, in my experience, you just listen to what I have to say and tend to form an opinion afterwards. Connor kind of flies off the handle. I love spending time with him, but it seems like he always has some preconceived notion."

"You should sit with him sometime and find out fer yerself. He's got his own ideas, but if ya only talk ta me about dis den I'm da only person he's gonna hear it from. We may be brudders, but we're not da same person. I t'ink you'll find dat if ya actually talk ta him dat dese notions he's got about ya will quickly dissolve."

With that, Murphy got up from the couch and put his boots and shirt back on. I set the bag next to the door just as he finished pulling his coat back on. As the door closed behind him, I took the brief amount of time I had to reflect on some aspects of my life. Maybe I do share too much with Murphy, but would Connor actually want to hear some of this stuff for himself? I think the reason I share so much with Murphy is because I've gotten used to the fact that he's limited in what he can do at the moment and being stuck in a hospital bed for five weeks meant that all he had was time on his hands to sit and listen.

The time passed quickly between Murphy and I; mostly it was me telling him the truth of everything that happened in Utah. Why I was there in the first place, why I stayed after his death. I managed to get the place looking a hell of a lot better than it was when I woke up this morning. At least now if I have to pee, I could do that without the fear of not knowing what was growing inside the toilet. Then again, with there being a lack of walls, I had to time my bathroom breaks to when I would send Murphy out with the garbage. The shower was going to be a whole other beast that I would have to tackle tomorrow, but for the time being I poured half a gallon of bleach on the floor and mopped it up after letting it sit for a half hour. At least a good part of the gunk build-up on the floor was up and I didn't have to worry so much about one of them slipping on the tiles. Murphy had to make at least four trips out to the dumpster with garbage bags, who knew the living conditions were that bad. I shouldn't say conditions were bad, but I guess rather questionable? Like perhaps it was being used to house squatters instead of a pair of blue collar, Irish twins. At least this was all illegal housing so there wasn't really anything the city's health department could do.

I had just sat down on the raggedy couch with my copy of _The Divine Comedy_ when the phone started ringing. Murphy was outside taking out the last of the garbage and there was no caller id that I could tell. It wasn't my phone to answer so I just let it ring until it stopped. About a minute or so later it started ringing again, whoever was calling was not going to give up until someone answered; they really need to get an answering machine. Murphy finally came back in after I had listened to that damned phone for the fourth time; he tried catching it on the last ring before it stopped all together but missed it.

"Why didn't ya answer it? It could've been Smecker." He shrugged out of his coat, tossing it onto the back of the couch and kicked his untied boots off, throwing them across the room and landing somewhere close to Connor's mattress.

"Not my phone to answer and there's no caller id. I'm sure whoever it is will be calling back in thirty seconds or less. Whoever it is though is damned and determined to reach one of you that's for sure."

I turned back to my book and sure enough, less than a minute later, the phone started ringing again. I glanced out of the corner of my eye and watched him lean over to pick the phone up off of the receiver and bring it to his ear. He started giving off weird looks as I picked out a muffled female voice coming through on the other line; she was speaking English but that was all I could pick up on. I did my best to ignore it until Murphy let loose a volley of curses in just about every language he could speak, though he seemed to favor Italian. He slammed the phone back down on the receiver and quickly got to his feet, taking large strides towards the fridge and pulling out a couple of beers, tossing one towards me as he made his way back to the couch. I set mine on the floor, unopened, and returned to the page I left off on in my book. If he wanted to talk about it, I'd listen, but his business was none of mine no matter how much my curiosity ate away at me.

"Be glad ya didn't answer dat ot'erwise I'd still be getting me ear chewed off. I'm sorry ya had ta hear all of dat; crazy ex-girlfriend got herself knocked up and t'inks it's mine. Da last time I slept with her was when ya went home fer Christmas, I always wore one when I was with her and always checked it after we were done."

I felt a twinge of pain hearing those words; if my math was right he had been cheating on his own girlfriend with me during that whole period we were sleeping together. To be in a relationship with someone who consistently cheats you on is one thing, but knowing how it feels to wear the shoe on the other foot and be known as the other woman just made me feel terrible. I felt like a home-wrecker no matter how sour their relationship was. Then I started to recall those words that I said to Donna last night in the bathroom at the precinct. I feel like such a fucking hypocrite. I don't sleep with married men and I don't sleep with men who are engaged or currently seeing someone, even if they know they can do better and still choose to settle.

' _Whore!_ That's all you are, you're a fucking whore and you're a fucking hypocrite. Too fucking blind to see that he was already taken and too fucking stupid to know that he was just using you. Maybe you should just-'

Enough of these thoughts for one day!

I replaced the bookmark and closed my book. Shutting my eyes for a brief moment, I tried once again to rely on my breathing exercises to calm me down. Setting the book on the arm of the couch, I picked the unopened can of beer up off the floor and put it back in the fridge. Since I was up, I rummaged a bit through the boxes they brought up and managed to find both my birth control and ibuprofen sitting on top of the box of pizza dough. Popping the pills, I glanced at the nearby clock checking to see when I could take my next ibuprofen should I need too.

"Do you remember the other night you told me I was worth fixing? After everything that's happened between yesterday and today, do you still think I'm worth fixing? Knowing what you know now about the things I've seen and the things I've done, am I still worth fixing?"

Silence.

Absolute silence.

The air being sucked out of the room as the weight of the words came crashing down around us.

"Just think about it for a while. There's no need to answer right away, I wouldn't expect you to. I'm going to go lay down for a couple of hours, could you wake me up at around 4:30? I'll get started on dinner when I get up."

As I made my way over to his bed, the phone started ringing again. I heard him start off with the phrase "I swear to fucking Christ" but that was quickly retracted when he said "sorry Ma." I snickered a little bit as he kept trying to apologize to that poor woman. I had just shut my eyes and started drifting off when I felt a dip in the bed and a hand shaking my shoulder. I tried to swat it away but was unsuccessful; all that cleaning wore me out and that little bit of light reading was the nail in the coffin. I felt him press the phone to my ear but didn't hear who he said it was.

"What?"

"Is dat anyway ta be talking ta yer future mother-in-law?"

"Sure is after I just spent all morning and part of the afternoon cleaning up this piss poor excuse of an icebox they call home. What can I do you for, Annabelle?"

"Ya can start by strangling dat bastard spawn of mine fer lying ta his own Ma; telling me he was so bored he started cleaning. He hasn't lifted a finger ta clean anyt'ing since before dey left home. What's dis I hear dat he's been talking about making an honest woman out of ya?"

"No fucking clue what you're talking about. I've only known your bastard spawn since mid-October and now I don't know what fucking day it is. I know Patty's Day is in a couple of weeks, other than that I really have no concept of time at the moment. That shot to the head must've caused more damage than the doctors originally let on. Although, right now I think I have a better reason to strangle him than you do. I'll let you have the honors of first blood, but I want him alive and breathing when you're done with him."

"What'd dat ungrateful pissant do dis time?"

Looking over my shoulder, I could see Murphy sitting on Connor's bed waiting to hear what his transgression was.

"Murph, it may be a good idea to go out for a smoke while your mom and I figure out the best course of action on this one."

"Dat bad, huh?" Annabelle's voice kind of started to fade a bit as it was replaced by the sound of liquid sloshing into more liquid.

He pointed to the window and let me know that if I needed him for anything that that was where he was going to be. I waited until he was outside and the window was shut before continuing my talk.

"Motherfucker never told me he had a girlfriend while he was going around and sleeping with me. Ya know, I may not have a very strict code that I go by when it comes to men or dating in general but rule number one is to never date someone the same age or older than my own parents and rule number two is to never date or fuck someone who is either married, engage, or currently in a relationship. I don't give a flying fuck how good or bad your relationship is with that person, but don't you _dare_ come to me for anything physical until you are once again single. God, how could I have been so fucking blind and stupid?! Please, don't tell me Connor is or was seeing someone too the same time all this was going on."

"Far as I know Connor's still very much single. He's got his one night stands, but he's never told me one way or da ot'er if he was seeing anyone. Dat wort'less brudder of his on da ot'er hand, now dat's a different story. One t'ing ta lie ta his Ma about somet'ing as petty as housework, it's anot'er ta lie about doing all of dat and you not having da slightest clue. Ya listen ta me dear, don't beat yerself up over dis. Yer not blind and yer not stupid; yer da farthest from it, believe me. We've only ever talked on da phone but I know when me boys have got a good one. As much as I hate ta say dat he deserves what he has coming, just hear him out before ya knock him out. If it still warrants an ass-kicking, call me when yer done and tell me all about it. Dere wort'less relatives will get a kick out him getting beat up by a girl, even t'ough it was well deserved."

"Before I go and get that worthless, lazy bastard I have question for you. What exactly did you mean by that in-law comment?"

"He didn't tell ya?"

"Tell me what?" I could not stop the inflection of my voice as it steadily rose to pose the question or stop my brows from knitting in confusion.

"It's not me place ta say, but all I can say on da subject is dat he loves ya. He's a damn idiot dat's fer certain, but he's a good lad. Crazy like dere old Ma, but dey are good boys. If he's still alive by da time yer done beating him fer lying ta ya, you can ask him yerself."

I got up from the bed, walking over to the window and knocking on the glass, motioning for Murphy to come back inside.

"Before ya go lass, if dey ask what we talked about, let 'em know dat da one who came out first is-"

I handed the phone back to Murphy before I could hear what Annabelle had to say and went back to bed. Or would it be went back to mattress since it's not technically a bed? There was another dip in the bed, but this one was significantly smaller than the one Murphy created. I reached over and felt one of the cats brush his head against my fingertips and walk up to the pillow that I was sleeping on. He wrapped himself around my head, kneading his little hands into my scalp he rested his head against my forehead, purring into my ear and lulling me into a peaceful slumber. I felt the other one jump into the bed before I fell asleep and curl up next to my hip.

* * *

"Agent Smecker, we found our suspect. The information that Ms. Perkins was able to provide you with last night was more than credible. He was out in the caves working on another shipment that was eventually going to be sent across the border. We're still working on getting a full confession and written statement but we were able to match that partial to the prints they have on file. He wanted me to have you tell her he was sorry that all this got dropped in her lap. That he was laying low elsewhere off the grid after it all went down; had he known that any of this was going to come back on her, he would've turned himself in a long time ago. Sorry to say that's all I've gotten out this little fucker but he's refusing to say another word until his lawyer gets here. Please have Ms. Perkins released and let her know that all the charges against her have been dropped."

"What about the boyfriend's personal things like the sketch books? She was asking about those last night, is it alright if I return those to her?"

"She can have the sketch books, but everything else will be needed for evidence. We also have the arsonist in custody as well. He's going to be booked and charged with that mass murder as well as rape. We found a young girl being held captive when we obtained our search warrant for the motel. I'm gonna need those boxes sent out here so I can sort through everything after you get those sketch books out."

"I'll be sure to let her know that right people are in custody. Good job Bloom. Maybe one day headquarters will send you back over here and you can help me figure out some of these cold cases."

I felt a hand roughly shaking my shoulder and the cats jumping up from their respective spots on the bed to run away. Connor's voice was in my ear whispering for me to wake up. Smecker was here and he had some news for me. I turned over onto my other side letting my hair fall in front of my face, trying in vain to get up from the bed but I was too comfortable to make the effort.

* * *

" _Tá tú go hálainn_."

" _G_ _o raibh maith agat_ _,_ _Murchadh_."

" _An dtuigeann tú Gaeilge_?"

I nodded my head as I picked it up off the pillow, yawning and rubbing some of the sleep from my eyes. Connor was nice enough to give me a hand up since I was pretty much sleeping on a mattress lying on the floor. If this mess ever got cleaned up enough, I could not wait to be back in my own bed again. I started closing my eyes again just dreaming about that cherry wood queen-sized sleigh bed but snapped out of it when I heard Smecker clearing his throat.

"Have a seat Ms. Perkins you're going to need to be sitting down when I tell you this; our agents out in Utah found your friend. They found him in the caves making a batch of meth that was scheduled to be sold across the border. He didn't openly confess to anything yet, but did want you to know he was sorry that it ever got this far; he even told us where to find your ex-boyfriend's brother. He was found in a motel room raping a young woman. He's been arrested and will be formally charged in the morning with the murders and arson. The young woman has been transported to an area hospital to undergo treatment to get her off the drugs and to see a psychiatrist. Once I take this ankle monitor off, you're a free woman."

"Still fucking at it in the caves, huh? I'm sorry, but I don't get how that fucking lab is still up and running even with the both of them dead. Does that fucking little golden boy have anything to do with it? I wouldn't expect him to openly confess to anything and do not ask me to testify against him. I've already ratted him out enough as it is and the last thing I need is pipe bomb in my mailbox sent with love from the state pen."

"By the way, the investigator in charge of the case out there said I could give these back to you. Everything else that was taken from the house will have to be sorted out for evidence, but these drawings have nothing to do with the case."

He heaved a full box with the lid threatening to come off onto the table and left after having a quick exchange of words with Connor and Murphy. Taking a deep breath I removed the lid, carefully taking in the smell of old paper pages and the place I once called home. I knew the box contained his sketch books but opening a box of memories can still be pretty overwhelming no matter how much time has passed.

"What's in da box?" Connor asked, reaching around and grabbing one of the books.

"Be careful with that; it has no meaning to you but it does to me. When you're done, put it back so I can get started on dinner."

"It's nothing but a bunch of spiders, why keep a box full of spiders? I t'ought you hated spiders?"

"I do hate spiders, but there's a difference between one that is drawn and one that is actively moving along a surface and biting me. These belonged to my ex, he would fill up all of the pages of these books after he got completely wasted on meth. Like I said, they mean nothing to you, but there is sentimental value in them for me. These are the drawings of a deranged man, but he was mine. Besides, not all of these are of spiders. They started to change into something else after he met me. I thought you were at work?"

"Only had ta go in fer half a day; signed up fer an extra shift when Murph was in da hospital ta try and make back what he was losing. Bills aren't gonna pay themselves ya know."

"I wish they did, between you and me because of all of this I'm out of a job until further notice."

I grabbed the book that Connor had been looking at and flipped it closed before I put it back in the box. Now that I was a free woman, I could pack my stuff up and go back down to my apartment. It was nothing against them, but I just liked being in my own space amongst my own things. I also liked being able to shut the door when I needed to use the toilet. I set the box on the floor then started rifling through the boxes of food that Murphy brought up this morning trying to find the remaining ingredients I needed for the pizza that night. Before he left, I had told Connor that if he wanted to invite Rocco over for dinner, that it was fine. Usually when I made pizza it ended up weighing about five pounds and nearly overflowed a 9x13 pan. I made sure to specifically ask Murphy to bring up my pan and all my measuring cups as well as the food.

"Ya probably don't want ta talk about it, but why was dere a duffle bag with $10,000 in cash sitting on yer bed with dat note yesterday? How did ya get so much money?"

"Sorry, forgot to answer that one earlier, didn't I?"

I glanced up at Murphy trying my best to seem apologetic about it then returned to my task of pulling out the necessary cups and the box of pizza dough mix. I take pride in being able to make my own pizza dough, but there are times when box mix comes in handy.

"My ex told me that if anything happened to him that I was to take that money and get out of town as quickly as I could. He told me not to ask where it came from or how he got it; just take it and go. I'm assuming that he would scrape off a small percentage of what he sold and tucked it away before turning the rest of the profits over to his father. We had always talked about getting out there when there was enough saved up; he hated having to be his father's puppet while his brother got to be the apple of their father's eye. My cats are the only thing I have so if anything happened to me I wanted to make sure they would be taken care of for as long as that money lasted. Now that I'm formally off the hook, I'd like that money back; call it my rainy day fund if you will. The only time I had to dip into it was when I had to pay the courts back in Utah to legally change my name. Perkins is my mother's maiden name and Róisín is what my ex used to call when he was coming down off one of his highs."

"So yer name is not Róisín Perkins? Yer gonna make us call ya Red until yer ready ta give up yer real name, aren't ya?"

I had briefly turned my back, heading to the counter in the kitchen to transform the mix into a dough as well as pre-heating the oven.

"Sure am. If you are taking guesses though, it is an Irish name; may help narrow down the list if one does exist. By the way, if your mother ever calls while I'm here again and refers to herself as my future mother-in-law, I will have your heads on a silver platter. I don't know what all was said but I have no intentions of getting married or having kids. I am not the marrying type; I have not the slightest clue the checklist that men look at it when it comes to settling down, but I'm pretty sure bat-shit crazy is not on that list and neither is looking at dead bodies all day."

The door suddenly opened and slammed shut; glancing over my shoulder I found Connor staring at the door. I returned to the task of frying up the bacon when I felt his chest on my back and his voice in my ear.

"Ya hurt his feelings; he told Ma yesterday dat he t'ought ya may have been da one fer him. If it wasn't for da fact dat yer a woman I would slap ya right now. Put aside yer selfishness just dis one time and open yer fucking eyes ta see dat he really cares about ya; all he wants ta do is help ya be a somewhat normal, functioning person and ya turn inta selfish bitch every chance ya get. I told yer sister dis hoping she would've told ya somet'ing, but clearly dat didn't happen; I told her dat if ya hurt me brudder dat I was going ta hurt ya. I won't do it physically but I am gonna give ya one last chance. If ya fuck dis up, I will run ya out of dis town."

"Don't you _dare_ threaten me. Had he told me that was how he really felt I may have been singing a different tune; let me tell you something Connor, after cleaning this place from top to bottom, Murphy got a phone call from his ex saying she's pregnant and trying to pin it on him. I did the math, I'm not stupid; I was the other woman and that's a horrible feeling. If he was so unhappy in that relationship then he should've ended it before sleeping with me. Then on top of that your mother called and started shooting her mouth off about all this mother-in-law shit and him making an honest woman out of me. I don't appreciate having all of this sprung on me without having been brought in on it. It's not my fault that your brother doesn't have the balls to talk to me about it first. If you want me to apologize for hurting his feelings, fine but I'm packing my stuff and moving back downstairs once this goes in the oven. I want my pan back when you're finished with it."

The sound of the door opening broke the focus that I had on Connor and I watched as Murphy made his way back inside, his face completely unreadable. My brain convinced me that he would naturally side with his brother and that he was done with me. That I was just being used for sex and food; he could have another one like me with a snap of his fingers. I turned back around and finished putting the pizza together, throwing the whole thing in the oven with instructions to take it out in an hour. I picked up the box that Smecker dropped off for me and grabbed the cats, putting them in the carrier that was brought up here and left. I could come back for my books in a little bit; they could keep the food for all I cared. I wasn't going to be their maid anymore and I could always replace what was taken with my next paycheck.

"I step outside fer two minutes and all hell breaks loose, what da fuck happened?"

"Not'ing ya really need ta be concerned about; I told her dat she hurt yer feelings with dat comment about not being da marrying type and not wanting kids; told her dat she's being selfish and needs ta knock dat shit off."

"I was listening da whole time, but she had a point. I never told her dat's what I wanted before I told Ma. I was gonna wait ta have dat conversation with her but Ma beat me ta it; she was only joking but I should've told her last night while I was talking ta her after anot'er one of dose nightmares. It probably would've scared da hell out of her but it wouldn't have been as bad as what she had just woken up from. I'm gonna take dese books back downstairs and see if I can't talk some sense inta her. I appreciate ya having my back like dat, but t'reatening her like dat is only gonna make her want ta shut down even more. I just spent da whole day getting her ta open up about everyt'ing dat happened in Utah, I don't wanna end up back on square one because yer being an over-protective asshole."

With that, Murphy put the book she had been reading back into the box that was still sitting on the floor next to the couch and grabbed the bowl off of the floor that contained the cat food as well as the half empty bag that sat on top of the fridge. Picking up all three items, he opened the door and walked out leaving Connor to question whether his decisions had really been in his brother's best interest or if it was the cause of some misplaced jealousy.

Her sister was right that he had developed feelings for her but they were not as clear as what his brother's were. It was something he would have to figure out on his own; he was certain that the sex between them was everything that he had ever wanted but he was unsure of how to approach her about how he really felt. He didn't want her to misconstrue what he was telling her as being mockery but at the same time he wanted her to know that he was going to try to help her in whatever capacity that she needed. Her sister pointed out to him before she left the loft that night that she was capable of giving a lot of love to those who needed it. When his brother was in a coma he saw for himself first-hand the kind of love and compassion that she was capable of and wanted more of that. She made him feel unashamed of crying in public, made him feel cared for when she'd force him out of the building in a useless effort of trying to get him to go home to sleep, she made him feel loved when she did little things such as the hugs, the kisses, and the way her fingers carded through his hair, massaging his aching head and lulling him into a sense of calm. The talk he had with the Monsignor earlier in the day helped to clarify a few things but not everything.

He had to find an outlet for all of this misplaced anger and jealousy; Roc needed to come up with an appropriate target for them and soon, otherwise he was going to find one for them. The sooner this happened the sooner he could get himself back onto the right track with her.

 _Hi everyone! Hope you're all enjoying this weekend and the latest installment. As I have said previously, we are fast approaching the end of this story (8 chapters left) so if you would like to see more, now is the time to let me know what you think as well as the time to let me know what you would like to see happen should you like to see a continuation. The more love ya leave, the quicker these final chapters go up. If you like what you've been reading, be sure to drop a few lines below._


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

I had barely gotten the door of the cat carrier opened when there was a knock on the door. I set the box of sketches down on the kitchen table and shuffled my way to the door. Checking to make sure neither of the cats were standing behind me, I cautiously pulled it open to find Murphy standing on the other side holding my books. I reluctantly let him in and told him to just set the box down in the hall then retreated back to the kitchen to pour over his sketches for the next few hours.

"I'm sorry, Connor's a bit of an ass when he's trying ta put what he t'inks is best fer me ahead of his own interests. I didn't mean ta t'row ya under da bus like dat eit'er when ya were talking with Ma earlier today. I wanted ta tell ya fer meself, but she beat me ta da punch."

"I just wish you had said something sooner. I'm too fucked up mentally to be able to process all of this when it's just thrown at me out of the blue. Even though Connor thinks I'm being selfish, the truth is I have to do what's best for me even if it does come with a price that needs to be paid in the end. I told you before when I agreed to this thing between us that I needed you to upfront with me about everything."

"I had planned on telling ya but like I said, Ma beat me to it, guess Connor beat me to it as well. While I was coming back up after dat last trip ta da dumpster, I was trying ta figure out da best way ta tell ya. Den she called and everyt'ing dat I'd been planning ta say just went out da window."

"You never told me that you had a girlfriend during that time it was supposed to be just strictly sex between us. I may have been the one getting the short end of the stick when my ex was out fucking around on me every night, but I don't deserve to be the other woman. If what you had with her was so bad then you should've ended it before you started messing around with me."

"Is dat what you and Ma were talking about when ya sent me out?"

All I could was nod as Murphy followed me into the kitchen, pulling a chair out and taking a seat. I guess the sketches could wait for now, I want to get this nipped in the bud before deciding whether or not I wanted to pursue this any further. I set my box on the floor, being careful that the contents didn't shift around too much.

"She told me to hear you out before I knocked you out. You're damn lucky I'm taking her advice at the moment so I suggest that if you want to keep breathing you'd better start talking. By no means do you have to go through every little minute detail but a little bit of backstory would be nice."

"Just a random hook-up dat Roc set me up with; hate ta admit but I was going t'rough a bit of a dry spell. Came inta da bar fucking pissed off about somet'ing, can't even remember what it was dat I was pissed about; probably somet'ing Connor said or did. Didn't even bother starting off with a beer just started ordering da hard stuff, top shelf so ya know it was bad. Connor started laying inta me about not getting laid after Roc started asking questions and I snapped at him. Roc told us he'd be back in a few and disappeared ta da back. Came back and told us he phoned a friend dat owed him. Said he was cashing in on his I.O.U. and dat da person would be dere in about 20 minutes. I kept t'rowing shots back-"

He paused, folding his arms on the table and resting his head somewhere in the space between.

"C'mon keep going. There's no way in Hell I'm letting you get out of this. If anything this is a walk in the park compared to everything I told you in the past couple of days."

I watched as he righted himself in the chair, quickly getting to his feet and going to the fridge. He returned with a beer in hand; twisting the cap off as he sat back down.

"Yer right, just dat dis is so embarrassing; I was drunk and at a low. Da door opened about a half hour later and dis woman walks in, comes straight up ta da bar and takes a seat between me and Roc. I'll admit, she was dressed ta da nines and exuded dis confidence. Like she knew she could turn heads and pitch tents wherever she went. Dat's not ta say dat you can't do da same its just dat-"

"Shut up. You're just digging yourself an even bigger hole that may end up being your grave."

"Sorry. Roc introduced us and instead of asking her out proper, I just grabbed her hand and dragged her off ta da washrooms. Checked da stalls and locked da door. I don't t'ink I need ta tell ya what happened but it took da edge off fer a bit. She took me home with her dat night and had me cursing her talents in more den one language. I know, I'm still not making meself look any better. We kept dat game up fer a couple of weeks before she asked me if I was ever gonna take her out. Said dat she was open ta t'ings being da way dey were but it'd nice if I took her out and wined her and dined her a bit. Seemed like a fair exchange ta me on da surface so I took her out ta dis place dat our boss told us about dat he takes his wife to on occasion.

"She complained da entire time dat da food wasn't good enough, da wine was too dry. She went on and on da whole night and den when da check came she said she had ta go and 'powder her nose.' Fucking bitch walked out and stiffed me fer da whole bill including da tip. Da work I do, it doesn't pay near enough. Dat place cost about four or five paychecks after all da bills are paid. Not'ing I could do t'ough but pay. Went ta her place and of course she wasn't dere; went ta some of da ot'er places she frequented and she wasn't dere eit'er. Managed ta find Roc and found out dat she was one of Donna's friends. Da both of 'em came in a little while later high on whatever drug dey were choosing ta use at dat time. I ended it den and dere."

"You said the last time you two were together was while I was home for Christmas so clearly you were still playing hide the jingle bells in the stocking."

"Who's da one telling da tale?" Murphy tried to feign anger but the smirk across his face let me know he was anything but, "couple of months had gone by and she showed up on our doorstep saying dat she got herself clean and she wanted a second chance."

"Sounds to me like you were a bit on the desperate side. How can you take her back if there was never any formality?"

"Good question, don't exactly know where da lines started ta blur. She got me drunk one night and da next t'ing I remember, she was talking about how she wanted me ta meet her parents. Anyway, like I said she showed up a few months later saying she was clean and wanted anot'er chance; I tried ta tell her no but she was already on her knees and had her hands on me."

"No offense, but in all the time I've known you, you've been a sucker for blowjobs and not in the least bit opposed to a handjob. I think you may have an addiction."

"Ya may be right. I took her back and she told me dat I could have her drug tested if I didn't believe her. I asked her fer one every month and every month she passed. About six or seven months after dat is when me and Connor met you and I let me mind start ta wander. Den Connor told me what you were doing in da bathroom dat one night and I wanted ta find out what you were t'inking about dat made ya scream me name in all dose dirty t'oughts you were having. Remember when I came over and told ya Connor kicked me out fer da night and Roc was busy? I was doing everyt'ing I could to avoid going back ta her. I really did want out but dere wasn't much ta motivate me, ya know? I went over ta her place a few days later and told her about what Connor heard ya doing in da bathroom; told her I wanted ta hear her call me name out like you did instead of some pet name, told her I wanted ta watch her get herself off, that I wanted ta see da affect dat I had on her when she t'ought about me regardless of whether or not I was in da same room with her.

"She t'ought I was being kinky but was agreeable ta it. She said a name that started with an M but it wasn't mine. Asked her who da fuck Matt was and she told me it was her ex; said dat he was da type of person who enjoyed watching and dat it was just a slip up. Her phone starts ringing a few seconds later and I snatched it up before she could and da name on da caller ID was Matt somet'ing. I answered it. Naturally he asked who I was and I asked who he was. Turns out she never left him like she said she did; found out too dat she was getting someone else ta do da drug tests fer her. She was still on heroin. Went back home and told Connor in not so many words dat I was gonna take my chances on ya and see how it played out."

"So, where do I come into play in all of this? So far the only thing I've heard was that Connor told you about my not so quiet playtime in the bathroom and if memory serves me right, I gave you a well-deserved shot to the head on Thanksgiving and refused to speak a word to either of you until the day after the party."

"I never officially ended t'ings with her and I kept going back ta her just about every week fer a fix so ta speak. I sound like an addict, I know but she knew what I liked and just how ta get da job done. She never did get me name right but I was too caught up in da act dat ta care. When Charlie came over a few days before da party he made sure dat we knew you were gonna be home dat whole weekend. Called our boss and told him dat I was gonna take a few days' vacation."

"So why me? You clearly had someone to go to, what made you want to take a chance on me? It can't only be because I said your name while I was in the tub that night."

"Dat was part of da reason. T'ough I t'ink, fer me anyway, dat when ya would hang out at da bar with us ya were relaxed. Ya had work and school ta worry about but ya weren't all dressed up and stressing out about some blind date ya got set up on, ya weren't stressing out about what bills were gonna get paid dat week. You were you; you were keeping pace on yer drinks with us, you were swearing like a damn sailor without a care, ya teased Roc about how bad his jokes were, and you could tell some of da dirtiest jokes me virgin ears have ever heard. Maybe da second or t'ird time ya came ta da bar with us, ya told da one about da kid walking in on his parents."

"Was that the same night that asshole came in and started hitting on me?"

"It was, can't believe he used one of dose bad pick-up lines but ya handled it better den some of da ot'er lasses dat had da misfortune of running inta dat guy. Yer not afraid ta hang out and act like one of da boys and yer not afraid ta tell it how it is. Even some of da guys at work don't have enough balls ta say da t'ings you do. Yer brash and undeterred when somet'ing stands in yer way; not'ing can stop ya from getting what ya want. Yer tough when ya have ta be, but den dere are da times when ya just can't. I was talking with Ma yesterday and I did tell her dat I t'ought you and I could have somet'ing. Woman told me I was out of me fucking mind and asked what brought dat on since I never mentioned ya ta her even t'ough da two of ya were already talking. Told her about dat night in da bar when ya turned him down. Said ya got a pair of brass balls ta be saying what ya did and laughed her ass off. Also told her how he tried ta hit ya when ya got up.

"Da t'ing t'ough dat made her t'ink I was out of me fucking mind was when I told her about da night we had just before me run in with Rosie. I got picked fer t'ird shift and was working all dose late nights inta da wee early morning. Instead of going upstairs ta sleep, I'd knock on da door right when you had just woken up. Ya'd have a plate or bowl of whatever ya made fer dinner sitting on da table fer me, let me sleep in yer bed when I was done. Dat last weekend I worked before da shift change, Connor and I got inta it over somet'ing, I came over and woke ya up from a dead sleep. Ya took me ta bed with ya and just started singing and running yer hands t'rough me hair. Dat was when I knew I wanted somet'ing more with ya. All da anger I had toward me brudder just dissolved and I can't remember a time when I felt more at home."

"I hate to cut story time short, but I get it; at least I think I do. You were unhappy with what you were getting, even though what you and I were doing was exactly the same thing that you had before, only real difference is that I knew the right name to say. Any way you look at it, you were still cheating even if the relationship between the two of you was restricted to sex. I hate repeating myself, but I don't deserve to be the other woman. I ran into Donna last night while using the bathroom in the precinct; she was drugged out of her mind and started accusing me of sleeping with Rocco. I told her and I told your mom that I don't go around sleeping with men who are already spoken for. If I had known that you were already taken I wouldn't have let things go as far as they did. I am not saying that I regret what happened, but I do regret the circumstances."

We sat quietly, listening to the second hand tick away on the clock. My foot tapped rhythmically against the floor, my chin resting in my hand. Murphy was still nursing his beer, a set of fingers drumming on the table.

"You still didn't answer my question. Why did you all of a sudden decide you wanted to take your chances on me when you already had someone?"

"Wanted somet'ing more den what I was getting. Know I said da last time I slept with her was when ya went home fer Christmas; what I didn't get ta tell ya was dat was also da day we broke up. She was only giving me what I wanted, she could care less about what I needed. You give me both what I want and what I need."

"What is it that you want?"

"Someone dat will take care of us when we need ta be taken care of. Sex is one t'ing but feeding us and helping ta massage da kinks out of our backs is anot'er. All dat time I spent cooped up in da hospital, I started watching da clock counting down da minutes ta when you'd be showing up. Never t'ought I'd find meself waiting and looking forward ta seeing someone. Even on da days when ya'd show up tired as hell and too worn out ta t'ink straight, apologizing fer not bringing me somet'ing ta eat, I found meself not caring whether or not ya brought anyt'ing. I just wanted ya ta stay da night; crawling inta bed next ta me, laying yer head on me, and falling asleep."

"What else do you want?"

"Just you. Ya don't care about what I can buy ya, ya know dat working at da plant doesn't exactly pay all dat well and ya know da hours are long. Can't really say what else I want ot'er den dat."

"What do you need?"

"What I need is da same as what I want."

"I don't mean to sound harsh, but how do I know that if a nicer pair of legs comes strutting along that you won't go off and do to me what you did to your ex? By no means do I have the ability to turn heads when I walk into a room nor do I possess the ability to dress myself to the nines. I'm a plain Jane who prefers blue jeans, bare feet, and a face free of make-up. You and Connor both literally have women fawning at your feet, you can have your pick of the litter and I just don't get why you're choosing me over them. I want to understand, so please help me understand."

"Dat's _why_ we are choosing you over 'em. Ya don't t'ink about trying ta impress us, ya wear what ya feel comfortable in. Da no make-up look is what we prefer; I've only ever seen ya wear it one time and dat was da night Connor took ya out fer dinner ta say t'anks while I was on going week t'ree in da hospital. He said dat you insisted on coming up ta see me, making sure I was still doing alright and ta check in with da nurses fer yer daily report. He came up in da morning telling me how it went and said ya got one of da cheapest t'ings on da menu. Connor got a bit of a laugh out of it saying he t'ought it was kinda cute how uncomfortable ya were da whole night. Ya kept asking him if he was sure he could afford it and ya wouldn't stop bugging him about letting ya get da tip."

"I remember that night. I still can't believe I let Connor talk me into getting all dressed up only to spend nearly $70 on dinner for two. I should've known that telling him to pick the place would result in me second guessing whether or not going there would be a good idea. Honestly, I should've told him to meet me at the diner because the food tasted like shit. I can't even begin to tell you how much salt and pepper I had to use just to get some flavor into that tiny piece of meat the size of marble. At least at the diner they know what we like and I can usually make my way up to the counter and have everything paid for while you two are immersed in one of your twin conversations."

"But he really wanted ta take ya out. I agree dat he could've chosen a place where ya would've felt a bit more comfortable at, but from what he told me after ya left ya relaxed a bit and were able ta enjoy da rest of da night. Ya have ta admit, him taking ya ta da theater later dat night was da highlight of da evening, so dere was a reason why ya were all dressed up. Told me dat ya couldn't stop smiling and singing along; he'd never seen ya so happy over a show."

"He laughed at me when I started crying at the end. I couldn't help it though, it was so fucking sad! As much as I enjoyed the night out though, I could not wait to get back home and into some more comfortable clothes. Connor ended up staying the night and with it being Valentine's I don't think I need to tell you what all ensued and what he was trying to do in the cab on the way back here."

"No, he went inta some pretty explicit detail dat left me more den frustrated. Da two of ya needed dat time together t'ough. I was awake and doing fine on me own, you needed time ta unwind, and Connor needed ya fer himself fer awhile. One t'ing about me brudder dat you should know is dat even when he's pissed, like he is now, he'll never stop caring about ya. Ya've managed ta make yerself at home in a place where very few people reside. He'll come around eventually once he realizes dat ya have ta do what ya t'ink is best fer you. What I told Ma on da phone yesterday is a pipe dream, we both have ta want it fer it ta happen. I wouldn't t'ink of pushing it onta ya when ya clearly aren't ready ta make a decision like dat."

"Thank you for being understanding and also for helping me to see things your way. Just next time, talk to me. I can't read what's going on in your head and hearing the words 'future mother-in-law' come out of your mom's mouth fucking scared the hell out of me. If that's something you want out of me later on down the road, then we'll certain talk about it when the time comes but at this point in time the answer is absolutely, one hundred percent, no. I would also want Connor's opinion on it because he's as much a part of this triangle we have going as the two of us are. I would not feel comfortable saying yes to you without knowing where Connor stands."

I knew what I was telling him seemed to have made sense; I saw the lightbulb over his head go off and he looked like he understood where I was coming from. He made a sudden grab for the phone in his pocket and announced that Rocco was on his way over.

"Guess he couldn't pass up da chance at free food. Why don't ya set aside yer pride and come back upstairs fer dinner? I know yer pissed at dat dumbass brudder of mine, but could ya do dis fer me? I know yer hunger is gonna win out eventually ot'erwise ya wouldn't have spent all dat time over one meal."

He had a damn good point, I told him earlier today that I hated making separate meals when I was already dead-set on making something specific plus I had been looking forward a piece of heaven since I made the final decision on making the five pound meal. He was also right that my hunger did win out; the sounds my stomach was making made that very clear.

"No matter what Connor says, just ignore him. Right now he's not worth yer time being pissed at him. Just let him sit and t'ink t'ings over, if anyt'ing at least with Roc being dere maybe it won't be so intense. He's good fer breaking da tension in a room. I know me brudder better den anyone on dis planet and ya should know dat he's acting da way he is fer a reason. I'll let you ask him yerself but I'll only clarify da points dat ya question and he won't answer."

I agreed to follow him back up to their place and was just in time to have Connor slam the door in our faces. Tonight was going to be a true test of how much I can handle of Connor's bullshit before I blew my top. I would hate for them to see how bad my temper could get but with Connor acting like this, it was going to take every ounce of restraint in me to hold back. At least I was smart enough to leave my gun downstairs; the temptation to shoot him was just too strong at the moment.

"Ow, hot pan, hot pan! Make way, coming through, hot pan!"

"Um, Rocco there's this really great invention called pot holders. That's what those things are called sitting on top of the stove. It really does come in handy when you take hot food out of the oven."

I felt bad for having to talk down to him like he was a child, but honestly he looked like an over-grown child who never learned the lesson to not put your bare hands on hot surfaces. I walked him over to the sink and ran his hands under cold water until he told me that they didn't hurt as bad anymore. Just by looking at them he was going to end up with second-degree burns and the blisters that were already forming were going to have to be popped and drained before they got infected. If he could hold out until after dinner, I'd do it for him since I'm pretty sure Connor and Murphy had no idea what a sewing needle was and the multi-faceted things it could be used for.

At least the set of plates they had tucked away in the upper cabinets were clean and so was the silverware. Who knew they even had that lying around in a sink full of unwashed, crusted over cereal bowls. They didn't have a dishwasher so I had wash them in near boiling water a few times before I was satisfied that they were all free of the crusts they were previously surrounded with. I made sure Murphy at least understood that from now on that if they were going to leave stuff in the sink to put some water in it so this didn't happen again, removing cement from dishes is not an easy task.

"So what I want to know is why you aren't in jail right now sitting in an orange jumpsuit. You always seemed like a normal person to me, how is it that you are capable of all of that shit and hide in plain sight with no one even batting an eyelash at it. You have to teach me how to not get caught."

"This is not how I imagined dinner going when I told Connor to invite you over this morning. Bottom line is that I was wrongly accused; they only had circumstantial evidence against me, and cleared me of all charges just a little bit ago. The whole not getting caught part? Learn to cover your tracks better and maybe you could get away with it a bit more. I'm not endorsing whatever crimes you plan on committing later on down the road but just be smart about how you cover yourself. Besides that, everyone was out there keeping an eye out for a blonde, not a red head."

We ate dinner in almost complete silence after that; occasionally Rocco would chime in with some pretty bad jokes but for the most part it was just a staring contest between Connor and I. Just as I was half-way through the second piece of pizza that I placed on my plate, I felt a hand rest against the top of my knee and a foot brush up against the side of my ankle. I broke eye contact with Connor to glance over at Murphy who squeezed my knee and offered me a reassuring half smile before his hand disappeared. I wasn't sure whose foot that belonged too but I don't think I wanted to know right at this moment. I knew I could eliminate Rocco since he kept his boots on since walking through the door so I had a 50/50 chance of being right.

"Dear God, I haven't had anything that filling in a long time. Do you mind if I take some of this home with me? Donna hasn't been home in a couple of weeks and I've been too busy with work to buy anything or stop off at my mom's."

"Donna didn't call you last night?"

"Why would she? She never does anyway; she just comes and goes as she pleases."

"I bumped into her last night in the precinct. Started accusing me of sleeping with you, but there was no point in arguing with her. She was hopped up on something and drunk as shit."

"Doesn't surprise me in the slightest. She's on every drug known to man so screw her. About this food…"

"Take as much as you want. At least this way you'll have something for breakfast in the morning if you want it. If you're not busy with work you are more than welcome to come over to my place for dinner; these two show up around 6:30-7:00 just about every night. They may end up eating me out of house and home but it's worth it to see them get at least one home-cooked meal rather than spending money on take out. That's not to say I don't have nights where I don't feel like cooking but even on take out nights I always get them something. One of you gets to wash and the other gets to dry." I got up from my seat, making my way to the sink to drop my plate in, filling it with water.

Connor nearly ended up on the floor when I heard him mutter that it was woman's work under his breath. Both Murphy and Rocco had to hold me back but that didn't stop me from wrapping one of my hands around his throat and digging my nails in. It took quite a bit of strength on Murphy's part to pry my fingers from Connor's throat but when he was finally able to free his brother's windpipe from my grasp Rocco had to hold me down on the ground so the twins could leave the room. I apologized to Rocco for having let him see me like that but that was my breaking point for tonight.

"C'mon let's go back down to your place, I think I may know why he's acting like this. But you cannot let either of them know that I told you or that you even know otherwise they'll kill me. The shit they're mixed up in could get them into some pretty serious trouble and they want to keep you out of it."

I washed and dried my pan and left everything else for those two to sort through. I'm pretty sure their mother made them do the same thing when they were growing up after she made dinner. Rocco followed me out of their apartment and down the stairs to the third floor carrying the leftovers that he was choosing to take home with him later on when he left my place. Hopefully whatever he had to offer as an explanation for Connor's behavior would be good enough otherwise I don't know what I'm gonna do. I unlocked the door and allowed Rocco inside first, asking him to take his shoes off then followed him into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of beers out of the fridge.

"So why is Connor acting like a giant douche? He seemed to be fine this morning and then after Smecker showed up to let me know that I was off the hook he started acting like a child. Actually, I think it has everything to do with the fact that I told them if their mom ever referred herself to me again as my mother-in-law that I'd kill them and also I'm not looking to get married or spit out their demon spawn anytime soon. Then he threatened to run me out of town. Thinking about it now, it was almost comical in the way he tried to scare me." Popping the cap of the bottle open, I took a drink allowing the cold amber liquid to wet my drying throat.

"Let's start with what happened after Smecker left. Before you and Murph walked in he started telling me that you talked with their mom this afternoon and she gave you a bit of scare when she referred to herself as your future mother-in-law."

I told Rocco my side of the story, trying not to get too much into the details. I was assuming that Roc had heard about my arrest through the news and Connor was attempting to fill in some of the gaps while Murphy was trying to talk some sense into me a little while ago.

"So why don't you tell me what's going on? Why do you think he's acting like this? Surely it can't be because I was being honest about what it is I do not want."

"You're gonna be needing another one of these," he started getting up from his chair and nabbing a couple more beers out of the fridge, "So you know those stories that pop up on the news periodically about the Saints? Connor and Murphy _are_ the Saints. I've been helping them get rid of the scum of the city; working for the mob I know everyone: what they look like, where they live, their habits, who they're fucking. I know everything about everyone. I know you're probably wondering what all of this has to do with Connor acting like a jerk ; the truth is, is that he cares about you just as much as Murph but the difference is that Murph is willing to wear his heart on his sleeve while Connor internalizes it until he's about to burst. He wants to try and control as much as he can. I've known these two for years and the thing about Connor you need to know is that he will do anything, and I mean _anything_ , to keep the people he cares most about safe. You'll have to ask him to tell you the story sometime but he jumped off the roof handcuffed to the toilet to save Murph from getting his brains blown out.

"All that shit going down yesterday after Smecker dropped you off, he ended up at my place when the 10:00 news was over and he damn near drank himself into the hospital with alcohol poisoning. He can normally hold his liquor better than the most experienced drinker on the planet but last night was bad. He came over in a cab already three sheets to the wind going on about how Doc had to cut him off because he was afraid for his health then he cleared out my stash; we're talking beers, whiskey, tequila, anything with an alcohol content in it he drank it."

Guess that explains where he went last night and why he looked like hell when he came in this morning.

"He's got a funny way of showing he cares about someone if it comes out as anger. He certainly could've gone about it a different way that's for fucking sure. This whole thing though about them being the Saints? I have no idea how to react to that; I mean do I thank them for killing bad guys or do I just ignore the fact that this what happens late at night when they tell me they're going out for a few hours after they're done eating dinner? You don't have to worry about me turning you guys in. After all the shit that I've gotten myself into in the last 24 hours at least you've got some decent people on your side willing to stand behind you while you're out there taking care of what the justice system fails to do. Besides, I'm used to keeping people's dirty secrets they don't want others to know about."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I know shit about people that would get me killed if I said anything. Look who you work for; I know people they work with and are enemies with. My face is out there for the entire city of Boston to see and those people are going to do everything possible to either talk me into working for them or make sure I never see the light of day again. Before I came here, I was living in Chicago. They found me, kidnapped me, and tortured me in the most unimaginable ways possible trying to get me to talk about my ex, his father, their meth lab. Apparently the supply they made stretched all the way out there and they hadn't been receiving their shipments in a timely manner. The only thing I can figure is that those people in Chicago sent others out to Utah to track down my ex and find out what was going on. Instead they found out he was dead and the only thing I could figure was that I got sold out as being associated with the whole affair."

"How'd you get out of there?"

Glancing up from my near empty bottle, I gave Rocco a look that all but screamed that he really did not want to know the answer to that question. He brought his hands up in a non-combative gesture before lowering them once more.

"I'll keep that piece of information between you and me. Since last night, I've heard through the grapevine that my boss wants you taken in alive. He's got a price on their heads for being The Saints and he's told his shooters to put one between my eyes if they see me. But he knows I know who his guys are and knows I can spot them from a mile away. From what I've heard, he wants you to take us out and he's willing to pay a hefty price for it too. That is, if this old man doesn't get to us first."

"The one who shot your finger off?"

"The very same. When Connor got up this morning, I told him about the rumors that started springing up overnight about my boss wanting you brought in. I've never seen him sober up so damn quick. He all but ran out of my place saying he needed to get back. If they don't know yet, they will when the news is over that your charges were dropped. They'll be sending more guys out to look for you, it'll all be one big run-around to see who gets to you first. These guys my boss is sending out, they specifically look in neighborhoods like this: they look in ghettos, they look in run-down buildings like this. You've got Connor pretty scared and he's got a tendency to lash out when he's scared and knowing what he knows now about you, I wouldn't put it past him to throw your ass in a trunk and just drove off somewhere just to get you out of the hot zone."

"Roc, as much as it pains me to say this, I can take care of myself. Good intentions aside, I'm not a damsel in distress and I don't necessarily need you, Connor, or Murphy to keep a watchful eye on me. I know how to hide, I know when to keep my mouth shut, and I can take a damn good beating. It'll take more than Connor's idle threats and your boss to have me packing. If the three of you are determined to keep me as safe as possible, then you do what is necessary to get rid of these guys once and for all. The quicker this town is free of your boss's reign, the better. I know that you probably won't let me help you actually take part in your late night festivities, but I will help you in whatever capacity that I can."

I finished my second beer of the night, standing from my chair I walked to the pantry and pulled a Ziploc bag of fresh oatmeal raisin cookies out. I apologized to Rocco, briefly explaining that I sometimes stress eat and binge on sweets. Knowing now that I've got people looking for me to do unthinkable things to three of the most important men in my life right now is something I was not fully prepared to hear.

"Wanna hear some funny shit about those two Micks? It's some good shit that may get you out of this depressing funk you're in. I couldn't even get you to laugh at the dirty jokes over dinner, so maybe story time will help. Ever hear about how Donna's cat got killed?"

I agreed, getting up from the table once more to toss the empty beer bottles into the trash. Making my way to the fridge, I pulled out a few more beers, placing them on the table between us and sunk into my chair to settle in.

We sat in the kitchen talking and drinking for the next couple of hours until Rocco announced that he needed to get going. As I walked him to the door, I saw Connor standing outside with his hand formed into a fist and raised like he was getting ready to knock. The two said good night to each other before Connor shoved his way in and closed the door behind him. I sighed knowing there was no getting around it; once Connor was dead set on something he would follow through with it until the end. Kind of like going on a wild goose chase; he'd chase that fucker up, down, and all around town until he got his way and it was either caught or dead.

I took back my seat at the kitchen table and flipped the lid open on the box that sat at my feet, pulling out a couple of sketch books. They each had an evidence sticker on the covers indicating exhibit M and then each book was assigned a number. My ex had a very specific way of organizing these and he'd be pissed to see these out of order. I had to get these back to the way they were before I could start going through these; there had to have been about 20 or 30 books here in the box and they were all in complete disarray.

"I've got somet'ing ta say ta ya and yer gonna sit dere and listen ta what I have ta say," He told me, slapping his hands on the table and swiping them over the top, throwing all of the sketch books to the floor. This was a side of him that I had never seen before and it was beginning to scare me, "Murph and I are da Saints, Roc helps us but he has not'ing ta do with why I'm here. I told ya earlier dat I don't want ta see me brudder get hurt and I mean dat. What I didn't tell ya was dat stunt ya pulled yesterday was da most scared I have ever been in a while. I know ya know how Murph feels about ya but I need ya ta know how _I_ feel. I don't want ya going around t'inking dat I'm using ya fer free food and sex; I was doing dat in da beginning but da more time ya spent hanging around Murph da more I wanted to be around ya."

Connor pulled the chair out that was next to mine, having a seat and taking my hands into his before continuing.

"When Murph was in dat coma I was so scared dat I was gonna lose me brudder dat I just fell apart; you were dere fer me when I needed someone. None of my exes or one night stands would've done dat fer me but you did even t'ough ya didn't have ta. Ya kept me grounded when all I wanted ta do was kill someone, namely Rosie.

"I got pissed at ya for no real reason today; ya may not have known what Murph wanted out of ya when Ma surprised ya earlier with dat in-law comment and neither of us knew how ya felt about marriage and kids. It makes sense ta da both of us why ya feel dat way; ya have enough going on with work and school and we're constantly looking over our shoulders trying not ta get caught. I want ya ta look out fer me and take care of me da way ya do Murph; I want ya ta know dat I'll do da same fer you. I can't promise dat I'll always be dere when ya need me, but I can promise dat I won't turn out like yer ex or anyone else from yer past. I won't put me hands on ya no matter how angry I am at ya, I won't go carving me name inta yer skin after we've had sex, and I won't go around getting ya mixed up in da shit dat we're involved in. If we come over at oddball hours of da night after a hit gone bad, we're not gonna drag ya inta it by telling ya all of da gory details but we will ask if ya could help clean us up.

"Ya should've seen what happened ta us after dis one hit we did; dis old man was standing outside da house we were at waiting fer us. He shot Roc's finger off, got Murph in da arm, and got me in da leg. We had ta use an iron heated up on da stove ta cauterize everyt'ing. I think I still have da bullet stuck somewhere in me leg but it doesn't hurt near as bad as da day it happened."

"Rocco told me about you two being the Saints; he told me how he was involved and how he lost his finger. I agree with what it is you're doing but at the same time murder is murder. I won't say anything though. I don't care what time of day or night it is when you get hurt, I don't mind playing nurse and I don't care if you want to tell me what happened or if you want to keep it to yourself.

"What I said earlier about kids and marriage? It wasn't me trying to be selfish; it's just something that I think is wrong for me. If someone can come along and change my mind about it, let them try. I don't want to go through life tied down to one person and then have to bury them; I did that once already and I don't think I can do that again. The idea of having kids scares me worse than marriage; there are always the questions of what if that comes to mind. What if there's a miscarriage, what if I go into labor and they're stillborn, what if I'm not fit to be a parent, what happens when they start crying too much and all I want to do is scream at them to shut up or worse? I'm so scared that I'm going to fuck up that it's just easier to say from the get-go no marriage, no kids. This three-way we had between us worked for me, I was okay with it strictly being just about sex; I wasn't looking to attach myself to anyone or have you two attach yourselves to me, it just complicates things too much when it does happen.

"Why don't you start from the beginning about how all of this happened? How did you two become the Saints?"

I climbed off my chair and got down on my knees to begin picking up the books that Connor threw onto the floor; thankfully none of the papers came out of their respective books and I was able get them all put back in order in no time at all. Connor pulled his chair over so he could sit behind me and watch as I poured myself over the pages. Occasionally, he would run his fingers up and down my arms.

"It was last year on St. Patrick's Day; we went ta mass like we always do den went ta work. After we got punched in fer da day, boss came over and said it was Rosie's first day and I was gonna be training her. I told her dat basically da rule of t'umb was ta try and get as much fat off as possible, she starts asking me if I knew where da phrase 'rule of t'umb' came from den starts lecturing me about how it was legal fer men ta beat dere wives with sticks no wider den dere t'umbs."

"Let me guess, you made her day _so_ much better by adding some of that Irish charm into the mix, huh?"

"Might've told her dat perhaps it should've been da rule of wrist. Went back ta do some work of me own and asked Murph how many lesbians it took ta screw in a lightbulb. She didn't t'ink it was very funny and started preaching ta da choir about how I was only doing dat cause she was a woman. Rosie, she was a bit on da scary side; I tried ta shake her hand when our boss introduced us ta her. She points a finger at her t'roat saying she prefers ta be called Rozengurtle by men. She had da words 'untouched by man' tattooed on t'roat. It was just a joke, we were only trying ta get a rise out of her but she hauls off and hits me in da face, tried apologizing and telling her ta relax, ta save dat aggression fer protesting; next t'ing I know she gives me a shot ta da nuts. Macho Murph knocked her out with one hit."

"How many lesbians does it take to screw in a lightbulb?" Maybe some lighthearted, dirty humor could take the edge off this somber mood.

"Two; one ta actually screw in da bulb and anot'er wee lesbian ta suck my fucking cock, while I supervise."

I laughed a bit, it was a good joke but certainly not one I would tell to the likes of someone like Rosie.

"Got home later dat day and sat down on da couch with a beer in one hand and me nuts on ice. Ma called us drunk as hell telling us dat she found our Da's gun, how she had it ta her head and wanted ta tell us one last t'ing before she pulled da trigger. I'm trying ta talk some sense inta her and Murph's running over ta his bed ta grab his coat. Gun goes off and we both end up on da floor; we're both screaming inta da phone trying ta get her ta answer. When she finally does come back on da line she's having quite a good laugh at our expense. She had ta go and shut da neighbors up but before she hung up we had asked her who came out first. Dat was when she told us da one with da bigger cock.

"Well, that certainly explains why you both are asking me who's bigger. But as I've told Murphy, I need to talk with your mom and find out if she meant bigger in length or bigger in girth. Neither one of you may understand, but for women it does matter and it does make a difference. Now, since it was St. Patty's Day you probably could not pass up the chance at going down to the bar to see Doc, right?"

"Of course we went down ta da bar. It was just us, Roc, and a few ot'er guys in dere but t'ree Russians came in trying ta get us ta leave. Dey had been t'reatening ta close down da bar at da end da week. We tried being civil but den Roc opened his mouth and started cracking jokes; got himself a black eye after dat. Started a brawl in dere and naturally we had kicked dere sorry asses; da big one, named Ivan, tied him down ta bar and lit him up. Next day, we had just woken up and gotten our robes on when Ivan and another guy came and literally knocked our door down off da hinges. Dey cuffed me ta da toilet and took Murph out back. Dey were gonna kill him, shoot him in da head; I don't know what I would've done had it happened but I knew I had ta try and get ta him. Ripped da toilet out of da floor and carried it up ta da roof; dropped it on 'em. Dat was da last t'ing I remember before waking up in da hospital."

I had a sudden image of what it may have looked like from Murphy's point of view. Being dragged out to the alley and looking up to see Connor and a toilet falling from the sky. I quietly laughed to myself as _It's Raining Men_ started playing in my head.

"Doc came by da hospital just before I got discharged and said dat an FBI agent was in dere and gave him his card."

"You're talking about Smecker?"

"Yeah, we turned ourselves in and told him it was all in self-defense. He got us off da hook. Stayed da night at da jail; had an awakening of some sort. Some may call it a mission from God: destroy all dat which is evil, so dat which is good may flourish.

"Our first hit sort of fell inta our laps as Murph would say. It was da Copley Plaza; took out nine Russians while hanging from the ceiling with some rope. After dat, da rest is pretty much history."

"How does Rocco get involved? He told me a little bit about how since he knows virtually everyone that it kind of made things easier on you two so it doesn't seem to be so random."

"His boss, Yakavetta, sent him in ta do da job at da Copley; told him it was just supposed ta be two guys and gave him a six-shooter. By da time he showed up we had already taken dose guys out. Day after dat tried talking some sense inta him about how he was sold out but he just wasn't having it. Went down ta da Lakeview and learned da truth fer himself. Told us who sold him out and from dere we started taking our cues from Roc. Made sense since we didn't really have a system."

"I guess that does make sense. I don't mean to ask so many questions, but I don't think one more will hurt. Why is there such a gap between hits? I'm not trying to question your methodology or anything like that but if you guys are taking out high ranking members of the Italian mafia and their hit-men, why are there only sporadic stories on the news? Why not hit them one after the other?"

"We wanted ta go after 'em one after da next, but Roc suggested taking our time dat way we can re-group and heal should any of us had gotten hit while on da job. Like how Roc lost his finger, it was easier ta let da battle wounds heal den it was ta go straight inta anot'er job and possibly not come out of it alive. Plus I t'ink Roc wants ta scare 'em; give 'em time ta breathe a little bit before moving on ta our next target."

"The longer you wait between hits, the more time you're giving them to re-group. They've already got a hit-man hired that's already clipped ya, next time you run into each other, you may not be so lucky. You may have the luck of the Irish on your side for now, but it's gonna run out. Roc made mention that I was now on their radars as someone they want to bring in to take you out. That's something I would never do under any circumstance. They could have a gun to my head, telling me to kill the three of you and I still wouldn't do it."

I was pouring over the pages of each book as Connor told me everything, from the beginning until now. If the math I was doing in my head was correct, they had been at this for almost a year and by some miracle of God had not been caught yet. At some point during the night while I was looking through the 10th book, I felt Connor brush my hair over my shoulder exposing my neck and the faded scars of what used to be his name.

"I didn't t'ink dat what ya said was actually true; how could ya let someone do dat ta ya?"

"I was young, dumb, and stupid. He had a pretty nasty reputation in town and he made sure that when I would go out with him that everyone was able to see that I belonged to him. Anyone who was caught trying to do something that he didn't like disappeared and was never seen or heard from again. It would mostly be tourists coming out to hike on the canyons but with there being only one bar in town, they would sometimes get a little too friendly with their hands. He and his buddies would square off with them in the parking lot and the next thing I'd know he was coming home covered in blood and ready to get himself off. He didn't care whether or not I did but I think deep down he did even if it never manifested itself, that's a story for another time.

"His father pretty much raised him to be a cold, heartless bastard after his mom died; from what he told me his father murdered her. His brother though was the favorite, got everything he ever wanted or asked for and he got picked for being the clean-up crew. When I met him he was already getting high on his own supply and more than half of these books were already filled in. One night we were just lying in bed and I told him that we should try to get out of that one-horse town and find some place better. His drawings, though crude, were good enough that he could better himself in an environment that embraced creativity rather than destroyed it. He told me I was insane and to never mention it to him again."

I got all the way through the first 15 books and had just started on the 16th when Connor flipped the cover of the book closed and covered the backs of my hands with his. I still had my hair over my shoulder and felt his lips moving across the back of my neck. Entwining his fingers with mine, he lifted them off the table and crossed them in front of my body, trapping me between the chair that I was sitting in and him. I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing, as I started to lose myself in the sensations.

I started recalling Murphy's words when we were upstairs earlier. I've done a lot of opening up with Murphy and he's taken it all in stride. I knew that he was telling Connor as much of it as he could remember, however being here with Connor brought about a different vibe to the room. His anger had subsided enough that he was thinking more clearly and I was more than thankfully that he was listening to what I was telling him. Knowing what I know now about who they are and what they do when they say they're going out for a few hours has made me realize that what I did yesterday only added to the amount of stress that Connor took on. He went from looking over his shoulder and keeping one hand on his gun to taking on the anxiety that I exuded from my dark past.

I could almost hear the cogs and wheels turning in his mind as the quiet descended on us and his lips worked silently over my neck and shoulders. Whatever plan Connor is working out in his mind may turn into the release we both seek.


	34. Chapter 34

_Hello & good morning my lovey readers! Hope everyone had a good holiday and had fun ringing in the New Year. I apologize that this did not go up sooner, however all the madness of the holidays has had me working overtime on the weekends and today is the first time in about three weeks that I can finally pull my head above water. Shout out to Valerie E. Mackin for giving this a read through. As always, comments & reviews are welcome, please PM me with any suggestions you may have. Also, we're getting down to the final chapters of this story so if you would like to see a continuation, now is the time to let me know._

 **Chapter 34**

"Keep that up and I may never let you go home; Murphy will be down a brother and the city will be down a Saint." My head started falling forward towards my chest as Connor kept brushing his lips against my neck, occasionally sucking on my earlobe or nipping at the flesh between my neck and shoulder. His thumbs rubbing the pulse points in my wrists, relaxing me even further into the chair I currently occupied.

"It's a very tempting offer but I still have a job at da plant ta work. Killing da bad guys doesn't exactly pay all dat well unless dey leave dere cash lying around. Dere is dis one t'ing dat's been kind of eating away at me fer da past couple of hours. If da F.B.I. has been looking fer ya fer a couple of years now under one name, how is it ya made it all da way ta Boston and you were able ta get a job and go ta school without raising suspicions?"

"How about you go back to making me lose myself in you and I'll answer whatever leftover questions you have in the morning? Like you said the other day, how about you take care of me since I'm going to be stuck taking care of your brother for a while; at least until he's able to go back to work next week. Nothing you do _has_ to lead into sex, what you're doing now is just fine."

"I suppose I could do dat, but I still want my questions answered before I leave fer work in da morning. You go on back ta yer drawings and I'll come get ya when I'm ready fer ya. Sound good?"

I nodded in agreement as he stopped and let me go, leaving his lips to linger on my neck just a little longer than previously; it seemed like a fair deal to me on the surface. I watched him disappear from the kitchen and heard my bedroom door open and shut. Underneath all of that though, I was pretty sure that Connor had some ulterior motive that would eventually lead to me going to bed with him. I was serious when I told him his actions didn't have to lead to sex. If he wanted the same opportunities that Murphy was getting he would have to learn that lesson eventually; my sex drive does not control my life, although the voice of that kinky little bitch inside my head likes to think otherwise. It was more enjoyable if it came as a natural response to the environment that brought it on as opposed to it being a forced act. That's not to say it couldn't be as pleasurable, but when something happens naturally it just feels better.

It was another one of those things that proved to me that Connor and Murphy were their own beings even though they were twins. Connor's mind was almost purely geared towards sex or something sex related while Murphy's mind tended to wander making him almost impossible to read or pick-up a vibe from.

With Murphy it was a natural progression; he took his time to make sure I was comfortable with what he had in mind but at the same time he could be spontaneous. He proved that to me earlier today while he was talking and I was cleaning, we got on the topic of how many languages he could speak and which ones. He told me that when they were in school, he really struggled to get the hang of Russian and German but he finally took the time during the weekends to sit down with a tutor until he didn't their help anymore. During their last year in school when they had to go to the government offices and get tested for their fluency exams, he impressed everyone there not only by getting every question on those exams correct but he also accepted offers from every University in the country that offered degrees in foreign language interpretation. He told me that he eventually decided against going to University altogether when things started getting tough at home, which is why they came to the states. The diversity of jobs that were offered plus better pay; they could live in cheap housing and send money back home in an effort to provide for their Ma after their Da left them.

The small story itself wasn't all that spontaneous, but surprising me and coming back with lunch was. My best guess would be that he probably went to the diner while he was taking the garbage out and I simply lost track of the time when I failed to notice that he hadn't come back yet. It wasn't that far of a walk, maybe 20 minutes roundtrip and if they weren't all that busy then it would've taken no time at all for him to order.

Connor on the other hand liked to live vicariously through his movies. He idolizes movie stars such as John Wayne, Charlie Bronson, and Clint Eastwood; I can't say that I blame him for picking such iconic stars but his ideas come from watching too many of their films. He enjoys a more fast-paced lifestyle that always involves a plan where things come together (sounds like Hannibal from the A-team, right?) In general, it's not a bad thing, but when I have spent one on one time with him he always comes up with a plan to get me out of my clothes. He's admitted that he doesn't fully work out the details beforehand but he has the basics laid out before I get there. This generally means he plans on getting me drunk and divesting me of every article of clothing I walked in with. As Murphy hinted at earlier this evening, spending Valentine's with Connor was just one of the many occasions in which one of his hair-brained schemes ended with the two of us having sex. Not that I'm against being wined and dined, but he could've just skipped all of that and gone straight to the theater. Though, I think, my idea was better: have sex, go to the theater, come back home, and have more sex. Connor told that under any other circumstance that he'd agree to that but with it being Valentine's he wanted to make it a little more special.

From what Connor's told me though this evening about their first hit as the Saints, he came up with the bright idea of crawling through an air vent and somehow a bunch of rope was supposed to come into play. I was more than impressed that they were able to pull that off without killing each other, but there is more than one way to skin a cat if you're going to take someone out. I probably shouldn't have put my two cents in when I offered up a few ideas that would've come straight out of the horror movies. More than likely they would've been scenes that were left on the cutting room floor because of the amount of gore that went with that kind of territory. The bug eyed look he had and his jaw silently opening and closing at the loss of words was the reaction I received when I relayed one story of a murder my ex committed out in the caves that I was a witness to. And that was one of the more humane, quick murders he committed; usually they'd be drawn out so the person would have to suffer until that moment when they drew their final breath.

As I poured myself over the pages of another sketch book my attention was drawn back to Connor who emerged from my bedroom with a bottle of my favorite lavender lotion and my bathrobe. I cocked an eyebrow and watched him as he approached the table again, setting the items down on the table across from me and returning to the seat that he previously occupied. I hadn't moved much during his absence and was starting to get a bit of a crick in my neck so his warm hands on my neck and shoulders were nothing short of a blessing in disguise.

"C'mon, got a bit of a surprise fer ya I t'ink yer gonna like." He whispered as he continued to dig his fingers into the sore muscles.

I carefully got up from the table and winced when my elbow locked up, finally popping as I reached my full height. It was the first time it had ever done that when I was around either of them and it was nothing short of painful.

"What da fuck was dat? Sounded like a bottle rocket going off. Might be a bit of a stupid question, but does it hurt when dat happens?" he asked, draping the robe over my shoulders and leading me into the bathroom.

"That would've been my elbow and yes it hurts like a motherfucker when it does happen which, unfortunately, is quite often. If I had to guess, I'd say it does that at least three or four times a day. If it's not my elbows popping, then it's most likely going to be my knees. Think of it as cracking your knuckles but the sound that's produced is amplified and so is the pain. What's behind door number one?"

"It's yer surprise. Not'ing special but as ya reminded me a little bit ago, I did say dat I was gonna take care of ya while yer taking time out of yer day ta play nurse ta me dumbass brudder. Figured after everyt'ing dat's happened dat dis would be a way ta get back inta yer good graces and when yer finished I t'ought I could send ya off ta bed more relaxed den ya've ever been in a long time."

He opened the door to the bathroom and flipped the switch on, illuminating the darkened room. It was nothing fancy or romantic, but it was certainly special and thoughtful. The bathtub was filled steaming water and smells of sandalwood, chamomile, and lavender filled the room. Connor may not have known that the smells and effectiveness of the oils dissipated with that much steam rising out of the tub but it was the thought that mattered. Today was rough on all of us and if this was Connor's way of trying to make it up to me then I'd certainly take this over make-up sex any day of the week.

"Just stay in dere fer about 10 minutes or so and I'll be back ta get ya out. Scout's honor, I will not do anyt'ing ta yer books in da kitchen. I don't like da fact dat yer keeping yer ex's stuff but since he's dead I'll lie ta meself and say it's just fer da sentimental value since ya don't have much of anyt'ing else ta remember him by."

"Connor," I waited until I had his undivided attention, "it's true I wanted those books for sentimental purposes, but this is the present not the past. I think you need this bath more than I do. Strip down and climb in, you'll feel better when you get out. Don't argue with me, just do it. Even though technically this isn't a house it is my place and my rules." I added, wrapping my hand around his arm.

When he finally turned to face me after letting out a heavy sigh, I reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head, tossing it in the sink. There were countless times that I've taken this man's shirt off and tossed it elsewhere, but tonight was the first time that I started taking in the smaller details. Both him and Rocco were telling me different stories of some of their hits and the use of an iron being used as a means of cauterizing their wounds. I let my fingers wander over the vast surface of flesh and muscle, tracing the outline and holes the hot iron left behind, letting my curious mind wonder what caused the various injuries that marred and maimed him.

Next I worked on getting the belt through the loops of his jeans and finally the jeans themselves until they were pooled around his feet. Again, I caught sight of another iron impression. Connor mentioned the first time they had ever been shot at was by an old man who got him in the leg. He was almost certain that the bullet was still in there. Once more, my curious mind wanted to find out for sure if the bullet was in there and there was one of two ways that I could think of to find out: take a trip to the hospital for an x-ray or look for an exit wound when he turned around. Since Connor _is_ one of the Saints, going for an x-ray was out of the question so I guess looking for an exit wound was going to be the way to settle my curiosity.

Stepping behind him, I gave him a small shove towards the bathtub and waited until he got in before I left the room, gently closing the door behind me. No iron marks on the back of his leg, no exit; I guess that bullet is still in there somewhere. I knew he meant well with his actions and I really did appreciate the gesture but he was the one in need of some TLC tonight, not me. Afterall, it was my fault in the first place that everything has happened the way it has in the past couple of days. He seemed to be more than a little frustrated with me that I was putting him before me, but this was just another one of those quirks I had about me. I'm more than certain my sister told them that; it was something that I couldn't help. I'm just the kind of person to put everyone else's wants and needs above my own. Honestly, I'm not even sure my wants and needs have a place on the list. If I was being completely honest though, I do know what I want and I do know what I need; I've had that figured out for a while, long before I met the twins. My wants and needs are just too messed up to be brought to fruition.

I retreated back to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and took out the bottle of Jack that I always kept in there for nights such as this when I just felt like drinking and reminiscing. I probably would end up crying myself to sleep tonight over these memories but the alcohol would at least numb the pain. Glancing up at the clock that hung just above the stove, I saw that it was now 12:19 in the morning. At least I wouldn't have to worry too much about work for a while. Once news broke out about my arrest, Charlie left me a voicemail saying he packed what little things I had at the office and would drop them off in the morning; he'd also be collecting my security badge at that time. He ended the call with "I can't be friends with a felon." Maybe if Connor is still here in the morning, he could make the exchange so I don't have to see Charlie. It was best to start weeding those kinds of people out of my life as quickly as I could.

There is a big difference between those who call themselves your friends and those who are really your friends. Those who call themselves your friend will kick you to the curb the first chance they get; those who are really your friends will have your back no matter what. In this case, I was more than lucky to have met Connor, Murphy, and Rocco when I did otherwise I'm not sure what would've happened to me. Sure they were doing what Smecker told them but it was just a good feeling to have them believe that I didn't do any of the shit that I was accused of.

"Hey Red? Can ya come in here real quick?"

Glancing back up at the clock it now read 12:32 am. I scooted the chair back and got up once again with my joints locking, this time it was my knee that popped as I hobbled through the hallway down to the bathroom. All mannerisms aside, I cautiously opened the door to find Connor still standing right where I left him dry as a bone and the water virtually untouched. What the hell could he have been doing in here the past 13 minutes?

"What's up?"

"I've been t'inking, maybe we could share da tub?"

"And you've been thinking about this for the last 15 minutes, is that right?" I asked with a smirk, cocking a brow and folding my arms across my chest.

"Had a bit of a problem I needed ta take care of before I asked since yer trying ta convince me dat my actions don't always have ta be sexual driven."

"From the looks of it, it wasn't a small problem you were dealing with, was it?"

Connor stood on the rug that I had laid out in front of the tub sporting a half-hard cock that continued to drip onto the rug; he held a dark blue hand towel in one hand that was balled up in his fist and his chest heaved just slightly. It was just a shame that I was not invited to the show.

"It was a rather large problem but I handled it meself ta best of my abilities. Now about sharing dis tub?"

"If it was that big of a problem, you should've let me know; I would've helped. You do realize that this tub will barely allow you to stretch your legs out, right? I mean you're what, six feet tall or something."

"We're 5'11" ta be exact short stuff. I did dis just fer you and yer trying ta get out of it by turning everyt'ing around ta make it seem like my needs are greater den yers. Let's just call da whole t'ing off and share da tub."

He brought his hand up that held the wadded up towel and aimed for the laundry basket that resided at the other end of the enclosed space. I watched as he released the towel, sending it flying over my shoulder and falling just short of basket's opening.

It can wait until tomorrow.

"Alright, you win; we'll share the tub. It's going to be a tight fit though. By the way, it's not nice to make fun of someone a whole 7" shorter than you are. We short girls know how to cause more mayhem then a pair of Irish, gun-toting twins." I told him, dropping my arms down to reach for the bottom of my tank top.

"I don't doubt dat, look at all da trouble ya've caused in da span of a day." His voice was light-hearted as he said it, but I knew I caused a fair amount of trouble not only for him and Murphy but for a multitude of other people as well.

Connor stopped me though, stepping into my space and pulled the garment off letting it drop to the floor somewhere by our feet. He rested his cheek against mine and started whispering into my ear what I hoped to be terms of endearment in Italian. Pressing his chest into mine, I felt his fingertips dance along my sides until they reached around my back trying to unhook my bra. I couldn't help smiling as he cursed under his breath about the number of hooks mine had and unable to understand why I wore one with so many.

"Because I like to watch your face as you struggle." I said, pulling away from the warmth that his body offered and reached around with one hand to unclasp the offending fabric.

"Show off." He laughed, using one hand to pull it down my shoulders and tossing it in the sink on top of his shirt that I had thrown there earlier.

His hand found its way to the small of my back, fingers splaying across the expanse of flesh, drawing me closer than I was previously. The other hand gently slid up my spine until his fingers found the rubber band that held my hair in place, giving it a slight tug. When my hair was finally released from its bindings, Connor used his fingers to spread it out carefully across my neck, shoulders, and back. The tip of his nose brushing lightly against my ear as he inhaled the strawberry scented perfume that was my shampoo and conditioner.

Gradually, he worked his hands towards my neck. Fingers working in tandem to relieve the painful crick that had developed from being hunched over earlier in the evening. A pair of thumbs swept back and forth over my lower jaw. I couldn't stop myself from closing my eyes and allowing my head to fall forward once again, this time using Connor's shoulder as a headrest. A soft chuckle interrupted the flow of foreign words he continued to whisper in my ear.

In a moment of detached thought, I brought my hands up to encircle his waist, drawing him impossibly closer. His thumbs seize their movements, stopping just shy of my chin; lifting my head from his shoulder to gently cradle my face. I kept my eyes closed, allowing the steam that rose from the tub to immerse the room in a haze of fog and Connor's scent. His lips barely touched my forehead before disappearing.

Connor's hands slowly slipped from my neck and jaw, sliding slowly downwards to my shoulders. Once they were settled in place, I could feel the muscles in his fingers digging into my flesh. I pulled my head back further, allowing a bit of breathing room between us. His arms twisting slightly, silently asking me to turn my back to him. He pulled me back into the heated plane of his chest, lightly dragging his short nails down the length of my arms stopping at my wrists. Taking a gentle hold of my wrists, he brought my arms up to his neck. Instinctively, my fingers ensnared the hairs at the nape of his neck before moving them to bring his face down to my neck. Yet again, he continued whispering unknown words in several languages in my ear as my head continually fell back onto his shoulder.

The slight movement of his jaw unhinging and his teeth scraping against my neck had a sigh escaping past my lips. The feeling of relaxation that Connor was causing me was interrupted momentarily as his jagged nails ran down my sides; the goosebumps springing up instantaneously in their wake. His hands came to rest at the hem of the sweatpants, thumbs hooked on either side of the waistband that sat on my hips. His voice quietly in my ear asking something in one of the many languages that I could not understand.

"If you're going to ask questions, please do so in English."

"But it's okay fer you ta show off yer own linguistic skills, huh? It was French; was asking if I could finish undressing ya. Da heat of da water won't last all night."

"That was an accidental slip of the tongue earlier, you weren't supposed to know that I speak Irish, but since the cat's out of the bag I guess you should know that I speak Spanish too."

"Yer just full of secrets, aren't ya?"

"I am and you may finish what you started."

Connor worked the sweatpants and the panties off my hips ensuring that the closeness that had developed between the two of us remained intact. I was forced to release the light hold I had on his neck as he moved around to face me. His hands and fingers ceased their movements as he took the time to seemingly memorize the finer details of my body. With every new sliver of skin that was revealed, Connor would pause and carefully take his time in making sure that I was still okay with what he was doing; his eyes pleading, almost begging me to let him keep going. I didn't want him to stop; I had developed an unspoken need for him to keep going until the last stitch of clothing was gone. With each pause, his hands caressed what he discovered. On occasion, he would kiss a scar that my ex had given me. To me, it seemed like he was trying to kiss the past and any pain it caused away.

There was nothing behind me to keep me upright as Connor ventured lower, gradually getting to his knees to finally help remove the garments that pooled at my feet. I was so relaxed that I never felt Connor lift my hands onto his shoulders for balance as he carefully extracted one foot, then the other from the sweatpants I was wearing.

"Can we stay just like dis? Can da world just go and fuck itself while we stay just as we are now in dis moment?"

His words were hushed, his voice was pleading. I was brought out of my dreamlike state to find Connor still on his knees, hugging me to him. A small tremor escaped from his tightly tensed arms as I could feel his bottom lip slightly quivering against my stomach.

"If only this world didn't need you as much as it does we could. For now though, it seems as though the world is allowing us a small rip in time to have this moment to ourselves."

My arms wrapped around him as I did my best to comfort him. Sometimes all anyone ever needs is someone to hug them, to hold them and let them know that they are cared for. I've never been good with words, but as the old saying goes, actions speak louder than words. I only hope is enough for Connor to know that I have enough in me to love him just as much as I do Murphy even though, right now, I don't have it in me to say those three words.

Connor said nothing further as he rose to his feet, carefully grasping my chin between his thumb and forefinger to lift my head. He waited until I brought my gaze up to meet his, a small smile twitched on his lips and a tiny light started appearing in his eyes that was not there before.

"What?"

"Just wondering how ya manage ta do da t'ings ya do ta me."

"What do you mean?"

"Mind if we climb in first before I tell ya? Dat water's doing not'ing but getting colder by da minute."

I agreed to his request, his moment of trepidation was starting to peak through the brightness of his eyes and if he was working this hard to get me to relax, then I should work equally as hard to do the same for him. Since my tub didn't have any doors or towel bars to hang onto, Connor got in first then helped me to get seated in between his legs. It would've been quite a comical sight for anyone to watch as I tried to avoid sitting on the MacManus family jewels as Connor liked to call them. He had nothing to say when I reminded him there was more than one set of jewels that ran in the family; Murphy's worked just as well as his.

"To be honest, I don't t'ink I like ya wearing Murph's clothes and ya were right, dis is a very tight fit."

"Well you weren't feeling very generous last night when I asked if I could borrow something more comfortable to sleep in before you left." I reminded him, leaning back into his chest, resting my head on his shoulder, my eyes drifting shut as the heat enveloped me wholly.

"I was angry and hurt, I wasn't about ta let ya wear me clothes. Hopefully dis is all behind us now and ya don't have any more skeletons falling out of da closet."

I've got a graveyard of skeletons in mine, but I don't think they're quite on the same scale of this one. But no one has to know the whole story unless I want them to.

"Why don't you tell me what you meant a little bit ago? What is that I do to you?"

"I've had dis problem since I was a kid. Any woman who's managed ta get ta me as much as you have, I tend ta start speaking in tongues ta try and best explain how I feel about dat person. You've got me saying what I feel fer ya in every language I can speak except English and with da exception of Irish and Spanish, I know ya probably don't have da slightest clue of what I'm trying ta tell ya."

"You're right, I don't know what you're saying or what it is that you are trying to say to me. I can only pick out a few words in French and Italian only because they are closely related to Spanish. Why don't you just give it a try and see what happens when you tell me in English?"

Once again, Connor brushed my hair over my shoulder and started assaulting my neck and shoulders once more with his lips and fingers. The smell of the oils began to dissipate the longer we sat in the tub as did the warmth of the water, but I waited patiently until Connor was able to find the words to say. However, the longer we sat in the water, the more I could feel the tension begin to rise once again. Gradually, I lifted my arms out of the water, reaching my hands up to take Connor's from my shoulders. Laying them on my legs, I let my fingers drift over the tops of his hands in an attempt to bring him back into the moment.

"Before I met you and Murphy, after I left Utah, I lived in Chicago for a couple of months. I was living there just before coming here. I had been seeing someone at the time and I discovered that for a man who loved to talk, he struggled to find the right words to say around women. He was a nervous wreck when he asked me out that first time and the entire time we were together on that first date he fought a lot with himself to strike up a conversation and keep it going. I finally asked him what was wrong and do you know what he told me?"

Silence hung in the air as I waited for Connor to answer.

"What'd he tell ya?"

"He told me that he cannot express what he feels verbally because every time he tried, he ended up getting a slap to the face or called a pervert. I asked him if he could try to express what he felt for me in another medium whether it be writing or a work of art. He told me that if I agreed to go out with him a second time then he'd be able to tell me what it was he wanted to say. I told him I would and the next time we went out, he took me to this run down warehouse; he was in a band that was performing at this place. His band gets on stage and does their thing. The second to last song they did he made it known that he had written it as a way to say how he felt about me when he couldn't do it the first time.

"Connor, I think you have the same issue that this guy did. You are a man of many words, but words that involve feelings and expressing emotion for another person trip you up. I'm not going to push you and ask that you do it right this minute, but maybe if you wrote down, in English, all those words you were whispering to me I may be able to better understand what it is you are trying to tell me."

"It's a good idea, but how about I try it my way first and if I still can't den I'll try it yer way."

"You do whatever you feel comfortable with."

Another momentary pause came between us as the water started making small waves against the sides of the tub. Connor had removed his hands from my legs, bringing them up to graze along the sides of my arms.

"You scare me more den any person I've ever met in me life. Murph is one t'ing, he's me brudder and me twin, he's supposed ta do fucked up shit like dat ta always keep me on me toes. But you've got me scared on a whole ot'er level. Never really had ta use me heart ta make da decisions, it's always been what me brain tells my body ta do. Anyone dat I was with before you came along generally rented a small space in me mind but got moved aside fer anot'er a couple of days later; you've managed ta grab ahold of my heart while it's still beating. When yer not around it feels broken somehow and I'll spend all day trying ta fix it ta no avail. It's like I'm fucking miserable when yer not within earshot or I can't just open da door and find ya in one of a few rooms.

"Yesterday, it felt like I got da wind knocked out of me after seeing yer mugshot come up on da news and den dis morning when I woke up at Roc's ta find out dat his boss wanted ta bring ya in as a hired gun ta take us out it felt like a ton of bricks just dropping on top of me. Seeing yer mugshot, I t'ought I'd never see ya again and ya'd never know how it was I felt about ya. It was almost like having da rug pulled out from under me and ya never knowing dat dere was more den one crazy Irish bastard dat cared about ya."

"Is that why you woke me up this morning?"

I had no idea what time it was, I just remembered being in such a deep sleep after my third nightmare and Murphy pulling me into his chest reminding me that he wasn't going anywhere. The next thing I know the door is being slammed shut and Connor's on his knees, violently shaking me awake. He all but pulled me off the bed to hug me to him; he was running his hands everywhere he could possibly touch to ensure that it was not a dream.

"I needed ta know dat you were alright. I know Murph would've taken care of ya if anyt'ing were ta happen but _I_ needed ta know fer meself."

"I know."

"I called Ma a few weeks ago while Murph was still laid up in da hospital. It was just a few days before Valentine's when I took ya out, but it was when ya still stayed da night at da hospital with him ta make certain fer yerself dat he was doing alright. I had told Ma dat since dat first night we had together dat I had pretty much stopped sleeping around with random women and was looking ta take meself off da market, so ta speak. She t'ought I was talking crazy, dat I was only looking ta be doing dat so I could stop wearing a rubber all da damn time. She was only joking of course but I told her dat I was being serious. I never told her it was you, t'ough I t'ink she had an inkling; told her dat I loved dat ya took care of me when I needed it, how ya can get me ta relax just by being da same room as me, and ya can put me back in me place when I start stepping out of line. Know dat yer not religious, but ya chastise me fer taking da Lord's name in vain when da occasion calls fer it; I can see how uncomfortable it makes ya when we say Grace just before dinner, but ya let us do what we need ta do without question.

"It's one t'ing ta surround meself with friends and family, ta call someplace home. Its anot'er ta have someone like you come crashing in and slowly put me broken heart back together again. I've never told any ot'er person dis and only a select few know about it. Shortly after we moved here, I met someone and it was pretty serious. Long story short, she ripped me heart out and walked all over it because she claimed ta have found someone better den me. She said dat she never really loved me and dat I was not'ing but a toy fer her ta play with. After dat, I just stopped caring. Dere were times dat I'd have girlfriends but none of 'em could ever rise ta meet my standards. I don't ask fer much, but I do ask dat if ya choose ta be with me dat ya be honest on all fronts, don't go after me brudder and use us ta fulfill dat fantasy of a t'reesome, accept me as I am because I do have faults. I can see it when ya look at me dat ya do love me; ya may never be able ta da words but I can look in yer eyes and know its dere. Its dere fer me and its dere fer Murph; da way dat ya look at me I know dat I don't have ta be alone anymore. Ya've managed ta put me back together and I've never felt so whole. I _don't_ want eit'er of us ta be alone anymore and I _don't_ want ya ta leave like dat _ever_ again."

"Connor, I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you like I did and I never meant to scare you either. I had another nightmare last night after you left. I told Murphy that the reason I did what I did was because I was afraid that you were both going to leave me. I told Murphy that in my mind it felt like it would be easier if I left that way I could always say that neither of you left me. Can you forgive me?"

The water continued to make small waves around us as I waited for Connor to reply. He needs to know the truth of what happened in Utah as much as Murphy did.

"I already have, just tell me what happened from beginning ta end of how dis all started. I know ya told Murph and I know ya told Smecker, but I need ta hear fer meself."

"You mean from the _very_ beginning? Why I was out in Utah in the first place?"

"Dat would be da beginning. When yer sister was here she told me and Murph both dat you were 'normal' before yer ex got his claws inta ya."

"Just so you know, you are not going to like what you're about to hear and there are going to be times where you'll be as pissed off as you were earlier tonight. Just don't fly off the handle before I finish, okay? Three years ago, it'll be four in June, I was headed to Oregon for my first field job as an archaeologist. They were offering $15 an hour plus room and board and a few other benefits. It was scheduled to last for a total of eight weeks; I decided to leave St. Louis a few weeks early to see Great Salt Lakes Park and do a little bit of sight-seeing on the west coast before heading up north for the job. I had just crossed the state line into Utah when I got a flat tire, pulled over and got out to change it.

"Just as I was putting the nuts back on, this red truck pulls up next to me, guy asked if I needed hand and when I told him I was fine he made mention that he owned up a shop not far from where I was and it was the last gas station for a good while. I stored that little piece of information away for when I got back into the car; it had to have been pushing nearly 100 degrees that day and I was fucking exhausted just from changing that damn tire. He drove off and I finished up with the tire, I put the flat in the trunk and figured that if he owns a shop maybe he could patch it up and put it back on so I didn't have to drive around on a spare just in case it happened again. I was down to about half a tank when I got back in the car and saw the sign for last gas for the next fifty miles; decided to find the station and fill up.

"I saw the truck before I saw him, he was leaning against the side of the building with his foot propped up on the wall, a cigarette in his mouth and his coveralls tied around his waist. I took one look at him and just knew I was in trouble when he kicked off the wall and made his way over to the pumps. Asked me bluntly when the last time I got laid was and that if I was willing he'd have me screaming his name in less than a minute. Before him, the last time I had gotten laid was right around a year and a half. I was so busy trying to finish school and with papers to write and studying to do sex just wasn't a priority. That and the person I had slept with had absolutely no skills in the bedroom, he admitted later that he was a virgin."

"Ya gotta start somewhere and you must've been special enough ta him ta allow you dat privilege."

"No, he said that he was 23 and in college and needed to 'experiment.' He was probably just another frat boy or a pledge looking to prove himself. Anyway, I followed him to a motel room that was just across the parking lot from the shop. Spent an hour in that room with him before leaving and going back out to the car."

"So on a scale of 1 ta 10 how was he or do I want ta know?"

"Since you're asking, overall I'd give him a 13. He had a cock to match his ego and he kept his promise of having me scream his name in less than a minute, he threw me across the room like a ragdoll, and when I finally had him inside me, oh dear God was it ever satisfying. It was like I finally had someone big enough to hit all the right places at the same time and after not having sex for a year and a half it was just about the best thing on the planet. He bit me and drew blood in a couple of different places, he spanked me until my ass had welts. He understood that I could handle being roughed up like that and I wasn't going to break. Then when he was done, I couldn't walk straight."

"Sorry I asked, I guess I don't measure up ta him, do I?"

"You do but you don't and that's okay. The difference between you and him is that you care about the fact that I'm taken care of before letting yourself go, he never cared whether or not I got off. He was a meth addict and all he really cared about was when he could get that next hit and part of dealing with an addict is having to deal with _all_ of their addictions. For him, his addiction was meth and sex. He wanted a pussy that he could bury his dick in and be done with the person until the next time. After that hour, I never planned on seeing him again. Connor, trust me when I say that you have nothing to worry about, I know you probably will worry from here on out about whether or not you are enough for me. You are more than enough for me and so is Murphy. Keep in mind, this is the past we are talking about not the here and now."

"I understand, guess I just needed dat reassurance."

"It's okay to need reassurance, everyone needs it. Do you want me to keep going?"

"Yeah, it's da only way dat I'll ever get da closure I need in order ta help make t'ings better fer da future. Healing old wounds and all of dat."

"We left the motel room after the hour was up, he went back inside the shop and I went back to the car. Someone popped my trunk open and opened my suitcases; my clothes and everything I brought with me were thrown all over the place and a couple pairs of underwear were missing. I heard something dripping onto the ground and looked under the car to find something leaking out. My dad's a mechanic so he only taught me and my sister a few things but I knew that it wasn't motor oil leaking out. I picked up what I could off the ground and threw it all into the car, grabbed my purse, and went inside the shop. Found him underneath an Impala pulling parts out left and right, asked him to tow it in then made small talk until about quitting time. He brought it in and said that whoever did it put a hole in my coolant reserve tank and ended up puncturing a hole through my floor boards and started ripping wires out. On top of that, they cut my brake line. Looking back on it all, I'm more than certain that the whole thing was orchestrated by him to get me to stay for as long as possible.

"Made a deal with him that if he put a rush order in on the parts that he could fuck me morning, noon, and night as long as I didn't show my face in the shop or go near it until the car was fixed. A week later, I'm on my out to Oregon for the job. Staying there for a full week cost me all the time I wanted to spend sight-seeing on the west coast."

"Why'd ya go back? If da job lasted fer two months, why didn't ya just go home when you were done working?" Connor hands were on my back once more, this time pushing me forward slightly so he could work a little bit on the middle of my back.

"He told me something before I left, something that played on repeat every hour of every day for those two months. The closer I got to Utah, the more those words pulled me back to that place. I made a last minute decision and called home the day I got back to where it all started. I told them that I had met someone and was going to take my chances out there. Naturally they were pissed but I was grown and it was my choice, there wasn't much they could say or do to get me to change my mind on the subject. I got a room for a couple of days at the motel across from the shop, it was actually the only motel in the area everything else was rental homes. His dad pretty much owned the entire town: owned the bar, owned the motel, owned nearly every house that he rented out.

"I hope you understand, at least for now, I'm not going to tell you what he said. Just know that his words are ingrained in every fiber of my being and even though he's gone I still try to live my life as if he were still here. I hate to admit it, but he possessed me like no other person has ever done before and it felt right. I know my sister wished I had come out this way all those years ago instead of out west but the woman I was then would not have been able to survive on these Boston streets for very long."

"We would've taken care of ya when we found ya."

"The woman I was before never would've ventured this far out of the city, the only way you would've found me would be if I accidentally wound up on the wrong train or if someone dragged me out here to go bar-hopping. I never would've carried a gun and had enough balls to use it on another person or take the safety off and get ready to point it at Murphy's face. I would've let that guy in the alley do just about anything to me out of fear in the vain hope that he wouldn't kill me when he was finished."

"What happened da night ya got back?"

"Went to the bar and got something to eat, something to drink and just started talking with his dad. I didn't know they were father and son at the time so I made up some story about how I started researching the area and was doing some preliminary test digs to see if I could find anything that may have been related to one of the Native American tribes that once occupied the area several hundred years ago. He told me to be careful, that there were a lot of dangers out in the canyons. The people were to be feared more than the coyotes. He started telling me that caves were scattered all over the place and avoid all of them, they were the mouths of hell that the devil would use at random to try and tempt or corrupt good people and make them into monsters. The way he spoke, it was like he was telling a story to a child and in a way I think he did see me as a child.

"Before I met him and his father, I knew very little Spanish. I took a couple years of it in high school and a little bit in college while I was an undergrad but his dad was the one who taught me to speak it fluently. Wanted to make sure that if I got myself in a situation that looked impossible to get out of that I could make myself useful by gathering intel; they would be less likely to suspect a woman being fluent in Spanish. Anything they talked about I could go back to them and they would deal with it accordingly.

"It came in handy; a deal they had set up had gone bad. The buyers thought the product was a fake, thought it was powdered sugar or something. They came during the night, followed him to the house and waited until he left. They quietly came through the house; he never locked the door, never saw the point in it because no one was ever crazy enough to go near it with that crazy fucking dog he had, let alone venture inside. They found me in bed sleeping, taped my mouth shut, cuffed me to the bed and blindfolded me. I let him do quite a bit to me, but he knew better than to put anything over my mouth. The first and only time he did that I ended up in a full-blown panic attack and broke my arm trying to get the gag off. He never apologized for anything but that time he did. I was having another panic attack with the tape being over my mouth, I don't know if my phone slipped off the pillow or what but it was a piece of crap that would butt-dial the last number called if you hit it just right. It called him while he was working in the caves; he came rushing home and had some friends with him. It was a stroke of sheer dumb luck that it happened.

"I was still blindfolded so I don't know what happened but when it was all over he started asking questions. Everything they had been saying was in Spanish and it was in that moment I was thankful for all of his old man's lessons. Their plan was to get the product they had been promised and take four times as much back then they were going to kill me; send a message to everyone that worked in the caves that they were serious, to not fuck with them. I tried to keep my shit together but having a piece of tape over my mouth I couldn't really focus."

"What sent him over da edge?"

"They had a knife to my throat and were using me as a human shield. I guess they thought I was just some pawn or whore that could be easily disposed of. I remember hearing his voice when he came home and it helped bring a sense of calm until they started to press the knife further into my throat; those fuckers actually started slicing my neck open. Then a gun went off and for a whole minute I thought someone shot me and I was going to die. The pressure on my throat eased up but I still couldn't process what was happening because of the shock that started setting in."

"He had every reason ta go as fucking crazy as he did, I would've too if it had been me and I found ya like dat. What'd he do when he saw ya back in town?"

"He came bursting through the doors of the bar shouting 'whiskey' and banging his hand on the bar top. I guess the old man was going too slow for his liking so he just reached over the bar and pulled an unopened bottle out from underneath. He caught sight of me talking to the old man and taking a drink from the beer bottle, the next thing I know he's got a hand on my ass, squeezing, and his voice in my ear saying 'mine.' The old man got a couple of shot glasses out and set them up on the bar before leaving to go back to the kitchen. He filled each glass and threw my bottle on the floor, told me I was drinking whiskey tonight, not that watered down shit. Five shots later I was just buzzed enough to let him take me back to the motel and fuck me senseless. Told him why I came back when he asked. I wasn't looking for a relationship when I went back, just someone to kind of fool around with, who could give me what it was that I wanted, what I craved and he did.

"I went back to the bar the next day when it opened and asked his old man about getting a house to rent. Told him that at the moment I didn't have much in the way of money since my bank didn't have any branches that far out so I would need to go back home to pack my stuff up and get everything in order. He didn't have a problem giving me a two week grace period to get my shit together. The house that he rented out to me wasn't very far down the road from where he lived, matter of fact it sat right in the middle between his and his son's. We had to drive past his son's house to get to the one that I was going to be living in. I caught sight of his red truck pulled up next to the house and the dog that was just going absolutely fucking insane inside of a small enclosure. It was basically a chicken wire fence the size of my kitchen table.

"I stayed the night in the house after giving the old man a partial payment of what I owed. The house pretty much had everything I needed and checked just about every box off on the list. Kitchen to cook in, washer, dryer, and a pot to piss in that actually flushed. He told me about a house just a bit further up the road that had fallen into near disrepair. The family had been refusing to sell it to him just in case the kids wanted to come to back out and needed a place to stay. He told me the toilet had been broken for years and if anyone was crazy enough to live in that house they'd have to shit in the yard."

"Kind of like going camping, huh?" Connor laughed a bit as the sound of water sloshed around, a washcloth on my left shoulder a few seconds later and water running down my back brought back a painful memory that had me angrily wiping the silent tears from my eyes. We'll get to that one another time.

"I guess, instead of bears you get to deal with coyotes. My first night in the house went as well as could be expected when you move someplace that isn't home. Tossed and turned for hours until I couldn't stand it anymore. Got out of bed and threw in a load of laundry. I was shutting the lid of the washer and had just turned around when I saw him standing next to the machine the glow of his cigarette and the smoke that billowed out from it was the only indication that he was there. I never heard that sneaky fucker come in, well actually he broke in; found out later he picked the lock on the front door and let himself in. He trapped me in the laundry room, reached behind me and changed the settings on the washer to the spin cycle, extra spin, and went to town on me."

I paused to try and turn around in the tub a little bit. The impressions of his teeth from the first mark he had ever given me were on my left side in the middle of my ribcage. They were deep enough that he drew blood that first time and every time after that he'd make sure that if I didn't have a new mark that the first would always remain prominent.

"How could ya let him do dat to ya? Why didn't I ever notice dat before?"

Connor let the washcloth drop into the tub with a splash, his fingers tracing over the outlines of the teeth impressions, his brows knitted in concern and confusion.

"I let him because I wanted him too. It all circles back to that craving I had developed after that hour I spent with him two months prior. You and Murphy both notice virtually everything so I don't know why neither of you noticed. Shit, you didn't notice any of the marks I had until tonight when I told you about his name being carved into my neck. Would you have noticed it was there if I never said anything?"

"No, I wouldn't have paid it any attention. What happened after dat?"

I was pulled back into his chest, his arms encircling me as the heat of the water continued to dissipate.

"Left a couple of days later to go back home and pack my stuff. Two weeks later I was back in town, paid the rest of what I owed the old man and took a couple of jobs to get the bills paid. Worked part-time in the bar in the evenings and worked part-time in the shop during the day running the office. Both jobs paid in cash and I refused to take anything less as payment. I didn't know about the drugs until a few weeks later. It was a Friday, just before closing; this guy came in looking like shit and blitzed out of his fucking mind. Started asking for him and when I told him that he was busy with something he started tearing the fucking place apart. He heard what was going on and came in to find out what all of the ruckus was about. Saw the tweaker and got this look on his face, I can't really describe it but it's the look you and Murphy both get when you're pissed and there's nothing I can do to stop you from going off the deep end.

"Took him outside and I started trying to get the place cleaned up as soon as they left. I had just gotten the order forms for the different parts back in order when he came back inside; looked at me and said that if that guy or anyone else came in looking like that and looking for him to just come and get him, he'd take care of it. I saw him stuffing a wad of cash in his pocket and a bag of white stuff into the other. I didn't say anything because I didn't know the full story and didn't want to jump to conclusions. Closing time came and I had him sign a couple of checks so that parts he ordered got paid for on time as well as the rental company he got the tow truck from; he had just a few more payments to make before the title was his and it became one less thing to worry about."

"When did ya confront him on da drugs?"

"He'd been coming over to my place for sex just about every night by that time. He was getting out of the bed to leave, pulling his pants on and something fell out of the pocket and landed on the bed. I don't think he even realized it happened because when I asked him about what it was he had he wrapped his hand around my throat and told me if I ever breathed a word about what it was he had to another person he'd slit my throat, watch me slowly bleed to death before he fucked my lifeless body and threw it into the canyons; no one would ever know what happened and there would be no search party to look for whatever remained after the vultures were done picking my eyes out of my skull."

"And yet ya turned da blind eye and let him do da t'ings ta ya dat he did."

"I kept my mouth closed and turned the blind eye, in exchange he told me to move in with him. It wasn't a request, it was 'you _are_ moving in and you _will_ do as I say if you want to keep breathing.' After moving in, I got him to very slowly open up about how it all started for him. How his father could do that to him and make him into the person that he was. Then I found out he had a half-brother and learned how he treated the two of them differently. For the next two years I was slowly introduced to his world, the more trust we built between the two us the more he trusted me to keep his secrets. Two years later, his brother comes back to town with his sister, girlfriend, cousin, and a friend. They were looking to finally get that dilapidated piece of shit house sold and the old man had a cash offer for them. I had taken off work at both the bar and the shop the day they came to town, I had a doctor's appointment that day. No, I was not pregnant. We were hiking on the canyons the day before and I slipped and fell down the face of one of the canyons. I thought I had broken something and despite his reassurances that I had not, I wanted the opinion of a trained professional. My ankle not broken but it was sprained and swollen pretty bad. Gave me a bunch of pain pills and told me to keep it up and iced.

"I got to the bar just before they showed up and just before he closed the shop for the night. The old man was nice enough to give me a bag of ice for my ankle and helped me get it propped up on a chair. He already had my dinner on the grill before I walked in. The five of them came in and sat at a table not far from where I was and ordered beers and water, took a couple of menus as well. He came in not long after their drinks were laid out on the table. Told them he was surprised to see them there after what had happened to them about 10 years prior. I asked him about it later that night but that's for another time.

"All six of them were royally pissing me off, I had gone to the bar to kind of unwind and relax. What I ended up with was a noisy room of delinquents. His brother's girlfriend tried to break the tension in the room, put some song on the jukebox and told him to dance with her. It was torture having to sit at the table with my ankle on ice and watch some bitch dance with my man; he added to that torment by grabbing her ass and she didn't make it any better by grinding herself on him. I took it out on him later that night when he finally brought his ass home.

"Couple of days later this same fucking bitch shoves him off the side of one of the canyons and I had to bury him in our place. Not even his old man knew about that place, hell no one but the two of us knew about that place. I stayed for about six or seven months after that to get things packed up and moved out. That was when everything happened that led to his old man getting killed."

We finally called it a night after I commented that his fingers looked raisins and the skin under my toe nails were turning colors.

"Just so ya know, I know dat's not da whole story; I want da rest of it by da end of da night."

I got out of the tub first and had just leaned over the tub to pull stopper up to allow the water to drain when Connor pulled himself to his knees, placing a hand on the side of my face to draw my attention back to him. Neither of us said anything as we continued looking at each other; the silence was filled by the sounds of the last bit of water draining down the rusted pipes. Before releasing me Connor leaned in and whispered into my ear a phrase in Irish that caused my heart to nearly freeze, but at least now I know how he truly felt. The look in his eyes held the truth of his words. When he released my face he stood, grabbed the towel that had been lying on the back of the toilet and wrapped it around his waist. He then picked up the bathrobe that was forgotten off the hook on the back of the door, draping it around my shoulders and led me through the walk-in closet into the bedroom.

"Lay down on yer stomach and close yer eyes." He told me, carefully taking the robe off before dimming the lights down.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

I did as I was told and laid down across the bed on my stomach. I placed one of my pillows comfortably under my head and tucked my arms underneath it and just laid there with my eyes closed waiting for him to return. The mattress sank down as he climbed in and started moving around trying to find what was comfortable for him so he could start part two of his grand plan. He finally got himself situated so that he was on knees, straddling my legs; at least this way he was able to see and reach virtually everything.

"I see now why yer ex called ya Róisín Dubh. Never knew ya had tattoos or was I just not paying attention?"

I could feel a small smile tugging away at my lips as I tried to relax and slow my breathing.

"You just never paid attention. Funny you mention it because I had a very similar talk with Murphy about my tattoos this morning after you had just left for work. That rose my first one after I turned 18." I told him as I felt his fingertips trace along the blackened vines and thorns tattooed on my back.

The room was filled with silence with the exception of our breathing and the occasional sound of the lotion being squeezed out of the bottle. I was slowly falling asleep when Connor's voice broke the silence as he leaned over and started talking my ear.

"I want da rest of da story. What happened after he died?"

"I buried him."

"Well, I hope ya did. Wouldn't want da smell of festering flesh ta linger in under da hot sun, now would ya?"

"Something like that. That's what his father wanted me to do, it's sad to think that he didn't even care enough about his own son to want to do one decent thing for him in death. We'd go hiking in the canyons about once a week to try and clear our heads from all the mayhem that surrounded us. We had a spot that was well off the beaten path, not even his father knew about it and that man knew those canyons better than anybody. I had him buried there after I signed the papers to have his body released."

Connor's hands worked slowly and carefully around my neck. I breathed a sigh of relief as one spot in particular at the base of my skull was finally free from the strain that had been building throughout the night.

"The bag of money? I'm assuming he took a little of what he sold and put it in there before he turned the rest of the profits over to daddy dearest. Our plan was to get out of there when he had enough saved up. He wanted to get out and find somewhere where no one knew who he was, what he did, who his father was, or any of that. A buddy of his got him hooked on his own supply, before that he never touched the stuff; I guess you could say that he was normal once." 

"Yer rambling again."

I knew Connor was right but it was bound to happen when memories are dredged from the bottom.

"I stayed for about six months after his death. In those six months I kept working at the bar; since he wasn't there to run the shop anymore I took on the job of being a full-time barmaid. Every now and then his friends would pay me a visit to see how I was holding up, but we lived in a town where no one cared about each other. They say they were just checking up on me but really they were looking for their next fix. They assumed that because he was their dealer that when he died I'd take over and be their dealer, that I'd be the one in the caves making their supply. I'm a lot of things Connor, but I'm not a drug dealer or a maker. I hated the fact that he was on meth and I hated the fact that he never even tried to quit."

"Ya willing ta submit ta a random lie detector test?"

"You bet your ass I will. I'll pass that fucker with flying colors too."

I hadn't realized my head shot off of the pillow until I saw Connor out of the corner of my eye with his hands up.

"Okay, okay, just teasing ya; no need ta get all defensive. Relax, alright? How'd ya manage ta get inta so much trouble out dere six months later? Murph told me about da night ya got arrested, how ya told him ya never had a record before dat incident. Clearly somet'ing happened dat ya ended up being wanted by da F.B.I."

"Do you want the long story that I told Smecker & Murphy or do you want the Cliff notes version?"

"I'll take da Cliff notes so ya don't have ta repeat yerself too much."

'How thoughtful,' I rested my head back onto the pillow, shutting my eyes briefly as Connor's hands slid over the side of my neck and across my shoulder.

"His half-brother was holding his own sister hostage in the motel their father owned, they both pushed the same meth into her they helped to make; Connor, he was raping her every day. It was about a month after he died, they went out of town to do something and I knew they were going to be gone the majority of the day. I waited about an hour and a half after they left before I got the key to the room she was in from the office. I got her cleaned up as best I could when you consider that she was fighting me the entire time. Her face was beaten, bloody, and bruised; she didn't even look like a person it was so bad. I put her in my car because I knew if she saw the truck she'd freak out even more. I drove up to the canyons and put her in one of the ones where they did not make their meth in; gave her enough food, water, and blankets to keep her for about a week or two if she rationed them out properly.

"I told her I'd be back for her as soon as I could. She was finally able to see through the haze enough to realize that I wasn't gonna hurt her; she was asking if she could stay with me but she had been through enough trauma that being in the house where demons dwell wouldn't do her any good.

"After I put her in the cave, I went back to the motel room and staged it to look like she broke out. I went home when that was done. My usual routine was to sit in the bed of the truck with a beer or a bottle of whiskey and just stare off into space trying to lose myself in my thoughts, trying to look at his death from another angle thinking of what I could've done different to prevent it. I was pretty broken to say the least and I was using alcohol to cope."

I could feel Connor's eyes on me as I took a moment to pause. My bottom lip trembled as the tears started welling up. The all-consuming thoughts were trying to take over as I once again waged an internal battle with myself of how this all could've turned out different.

"Yer allowed ta be broken when someone ya love is ripped from ya. Ya saw how broken I was when Murph was in da hospital."

His hands skimmed across my shoulders, fingertips moving swiftly to find the next patch of muscle in need of release.

"I watched from the truck as the black smoke billowed up from the bar. I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face at the fact that I was watching something burn, that I was capable of causing someone that much anguish that they would burn something that kept me physically trapped in that town. It was just a link in the chain that had broken and I was looking to break many more in the days and weeks that were coming.

"I heard the tires turn off the pavement onto the gravel, his old man was making his way to the house and was in one hell of a hurry. He got there and we went inside to talk. Well, he grabbed me by the arm and dragged me like a ragdoll into the house and threw me onto the couch. Started screaming at me that she was missing and that he knew I was the mastermind behind it all. Yeah, he was right, but there was no proof to validate his accusations. He started slapping me around a bit, trying to get me to confess. Kept telling me that by not telling him the truth that I was only making my situation worse.

"His brother came up to the house shortly after that; picked me up by the throat and slammed me through the piece of shit coffee table. My head cracked against the floor and the next thing I know I'm curled up in the fetal position while they beat and kicked me. Who knew steel-toed boots could hurt that much?"

I could feel the anger rising off of Connor as I continued going into even more detail of my beating. Of how his brother broke five ribs from the kicks I had received, of how his father's fists struck my face until it looked about as swollen as Violet Beauregarde's was when she turned into a rather large looking blueberry; it was probably just as purple too.

"T'ank God ya lived t'rough dat. I know ya already know, but Murph and I would've killed 'em all a long time ago if we lived out dere. Dat way she never would've been raped by her own brudder and you never would've had ta go t'rough a beating like dat."

"The only reason I lived through it was because my ex had, I guess assigned someone to check in on me when he'd go out of town to keep tabs on me. He just so happened to come over while they were handing me my ass on a silver platter and got 'em off of me. He tortured the old man to death. He tied him down to a chair, laid him down on the floor of the house and did water torture on him. He didn't let the old man die right away; he drew it out for about four hours. In between the water torture, he'd stand him up in the bathtub and shock him with some kind of electric paddle while the tub was filled with water. When he got bored doing that, he'd take a knife from the kitchen and make some pretty precise marks across his body. They'd be in places where the bleeding would be sufficient, but not deep enough that it would kill him right away; he was slowly bleeding the old man to death."

"And where were you during all of dis?"

"On the couch with a bag of frozen peas on my face and a bag of frozen corn on my ribs. The ice maker broke a year prior and we just never got it fixed. As sick as it may sound, I wanted to watch him die; I wanted to see the life leave his eyes. I wanted my smiling face to be the last he saw so he could take it to the grave with him that he did not win, that he did not break me."

"So, ya killed him?"

"No, I never touched him."

"So, da old man's dead and yer a beaten, bloody mess. What about his brudder?"

"He was on the floor knocked out cold. When he came into the house and found me on the floor, the brother stopped what he was doing and went after him. He ran face first into a fist."

"Let me try and get dis straight. Yer ex dies after being pushed off a cliff, his half-brudder holds his own sister hostage, drugging and raping her daily, their Da does not'ing about it. A month later ya sneak inta da motel room and break her out, da bar burns ta ground, da two of 'em pay ya a visit and beat ya ta within an inch of yer life and out of nowhere yer guard dog comes ta da rescue. He knocks da brudder out and tortures their Da ta death all while yer sitting on da couch licking yer wounds and treating da swelling with frozen peas and corn. Sound about right?"

"Yeah, pretty much sums it up in a nutshell."

"What happens after dat? How do ya end up on da F.B.I.'s most wanted?"

"Like I said, this all happened about a month after my ex had died. From what Smecker had told me while I was being questioned, they were in town with a warrant to arrest my ex and his father. They had done a pretty large drug bust and were given information about their supplier; they had names, pictures, addresses. Just about everything you need to make a successful arrest provided no one came out with guns blazing. We had just left the house and passed these blacked-out SUV's heading that way; we looked at each other and just knew something was going to happen. Before we left, he told me to pack what I could and get in the car; we were going back to his place so he could get me cleaned up a bit. I grabbed the bag of money and a few changes of clothes and we left.

"I went into hiding after that; laid low for another five months until I was healed up enough to leave. News travels fast in a small town with a population of less than 100; when I found out that the F.B.I. had issued a warrant for my arrest, I put it out that I wanted the person who talked brought to an undisclosed location of my choosing, and I wanted them brought in alive."

Connor's hands stilled and lifted away slightly; the anticipation growing as he waited for me to continue.

"I didn't kill the person and I did not have a hit put out on them if that's what you're worried about."

A sigh of relief escaped, blowing my hair slightly as the air moved past my neck. Connor returned his hands to my body, this time working on the other side of my neck and the other shoulder.

"I had them brought out about 75 miles away from town, away from the cops, away from prying eyes and waiting ears. Connor, there is one thing you need to know about me that I did not tell Murphy and that is simply this: when someone goes against me, I get even. The person who ratted me out to the F.B.I., I had their mouth permanently shut. Not even St. Peter will be able to get them to talk at the pearly gates when he asks them to answer for what they did in their life."

"What did you do?"

His voice took on a tone that I had never heard before. Could that actually be the sound of fear?

"I had their mouth glued and sewed shut with the exception of a small opening so they could eat and drink through a straw. If I didn't do what I did that person would've wound up dead; thrown off of the edge of one of the canyons and left to the coyotes to feast on.

"I took my car and I left that night. I threw my bag of cash into the trunk and followed all the laws and rules of the road to ensure that I did not get pulled over. Took me a while since I had to keep stopping but I finally made it back home after being out on the road for a week. The first thing I did when I crossed the river was go to my cousin's shop and had her strip that ridiculous blonde dye from my hair and re-do it in a shade of red that was as close to my natural color as I could get. When she was done, I got back on the road and drove about a half hour to my parent's house. All they needed to know was that my ex was dead; they didn't need to know his death was six months before, they didn't need to know what I did in those six months, and they didn't need to know that I had a warrant."

Connor's hands had finally moved to my back. He was working with a renewed effort to get as many of the knots out as possible. I could feel him determining which places held the fewest knots, which spots could be easily taken care of, and which would prove to require the most work.

A silence fell over us as I allowed him to take in everything I had told him thus far. He wanted the entire story and he was certainly getting it. Opening an eye, I glanced at the digits of my alarm clock as they read 1:49 a.m.

"I won't ask ya fer anymore tonight, don't t'ink I could handle it at da moment."

"Connor, you kill bad guys who do bad things to good people. You are an executioner, how can you handle all of that but not be able to handle the stories of my past? Part of being in a relationship with someone is having to deal with their past issues; you _asked_ for this, you _asked_ me to tell you about Utah. I didn't just decide to tell you about it out of the blue."

Again he remained silent until I felt a thought pop into his head. Changing the subject was not going to get me to stop my tales. It would only end up bringing a new set of memories to the surface and a new set of questions to be answered.

"So tense, ya have more knots den ya did da last time I gave ya a back rub. Dere's more to it den everyt'ing dat's happened in da last 48 hours and I'm sure work and school play inta dat somehow. Dere's somet'ing else dat's eating away at ya dat's causing ya ta feel like da weight of da world is on yer shoulders."

His fingers were digging into a particular spot on my right side just under my shoulder blade trying to work the knots out of the muscles. There were a few more skeletons that still remained in the closet but I wasn't about to tell him what they were at this point in time since he didn't want to hear anymore tonight. I figured a few small truths would suffice until I was ready to release the next skeleton to bury it.

"Charlie left me a message on my phone while I was being questioned that he cleaned my desk out and was coming by in the morning to drop my stuff off and to get my badge. He said he can't be friends with me anymore because he says I'm a felon. You were there when Smecker said the charges were dropped; I'm not a felon. As far as I'm concerned, those charges don't become official until the judge brings the hammer down."

"I know yer not but if dat's da way he sees ya den it's probably fer da best dat t'ings between ya are ending. He was not'ing more den a vent fer me and Murph ta learn more about ya."

"What do you mean a vent?"

"You weren't reading da signs too well; when we'd ask ya ta go ta bar with us and we'd start asking questions about ya da answers were always too vague or ya'd shrug 'em off and refused ta answer 'em at all."

"Connor, I was reading the signs you two were sending out just fine. Knowing what you know now, do you blame me for being so evasive? I didn't want either of you to know anything about me. It sounds stupid as fuck but I thought you were just looking to get me drunk and yourselves laid."

"Ya should know better by now dat dere's more ta us den drinking and fucking. Never had ta work dis hard ta get ta know someone a little better. Yer an enigma dat I want ta try and figure out. Know dat I'll never be able ta do dat in dis lifetime, but it doesn't mean I can't try."

"I like being an enigma to you; it makes things more interesting. You'll be able to learn something new about me almost every day and you'd still never be able to figure me out completely."

"What else ya got on yer plate dat ya need ta get off?"

"I'm going back to Utah for a week in June. I was going to visit his grave like I did last year and to see some of his friends that still owe him money. He's dead, I know, but a debt is a debt and it needs to be re-paid. Besides it was my money to begin with before he borrowed it from me to give to them. I never asked what it was used for or how it was going being re-paid; I only cared about getting it back. I'm nervous as hell to go back there but I have to, there is some unfinished business that I need to take care of. Under no circumstances are you or Murphy allowed to go with me or follow me there. If his buddies saw you with me they'd kill you both and I don't want to be the one having to make that phone call to your mom. The only reason I'm saying anything is because I need you guys to take care of the cats for me while I'm gone."

I figured that since they stood up to the plate to take care of them while I was gone for Christmas that I could trust them to do it this time if formally asked. They had refused to take the money I was going to pay Charlie during those two weeks but did allow me to pay them in food.

"Where would ya stay while yer dere?" His hands had moved from my shoulder blade down to the middle of my back, kneading away at another group of tightly knotted muscles. His voice taking on a more serious tone, losing the light-heartedness it once held.

"At his house. It sounds strange but it was the only place I ever felt safe at when I was living there. Nobody in their right mind would venture to go anywhere near the house because of that crazy fucking dog in the first place but anyone who made it past the dog would have to get through him and if he wasn't there then he made sure I knew where the guns were. The only thing I'd have to do is call him and he'd drop everything to come home to take care of the rest."

"Ya make it sound like ya've done t'ings before and he had ta clean up."

Moving an arm out from under the pillow, I grasped Connor's hand, playing with his fingers for a moment before I pressed the question.

"Do you think you can handle a confession after everything I've told you so far?"

"I'm no priest so whatever ya say won't stay confidential, just so ya know."

"Connor, I'm being serious. Can you handle it, yes or no?"

"I can handle it."

Connor took his hand from mine, laying it across my shoulder as he moved off of my back to make himself more comfortable. He settled on his stomach next to me, pushing a strand of hair that had fallen into my face behind my ear; his thumb sweeping and caressing the skin under my eye as I tried to figure out the best way to tell him. I guess brute honesty was going to be the best approach.

"One of his friends came over to the house late one night, drunk as a fucking skunk. He was out in the caves making another batch to be shipped out of state. His friend tried to rape me while I was in bed sleeping; he managed to get my pants down to my knees and my shirt pushed up over my chest. I grabbed the gun that he kept under his pillow and shot him. It was pitch black inside the bedroom, but when I flipped the light on he was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood with a single shot to the head.

"I called him when it was all over and he pretty much dropped everything and came home immediately; he knew I wouldn't have called him at three in the morning if something wasn't right. By the time he had gotten home I already had the blood in the bedroom cleaned up, the body wrapped up in a tarp and tied up ready to be disposed of.

"After I hung up the phone, I pulled all of his teeth out of his skull, cut his fingers off, carved out the tattoos he had; anything that the police could visually use to identify him I took, even his eyes. He tried to rape me and I didn't think that he deserved to be identified, didn't think he deserved anything short of what he got. When my ex came home, we loaded the body into the car and we drove out to the canyons to dump him. I drove the car he came over in and my ex followed me in the truck. We put the car on the cliff, filled the trunk with lighter fluid, lit it up and sent it over the edge. We got in the truck and went home. He told me later that he was proud that I could handle myself in situations like that but thought I went a little overboard when I told him I took his eyes out."

Connor looked at me with sheer terror plastered across his face as I waited to see what he would do with this information. His thumb stilled its movement, his eyes searching mine in the hopes that my confession was nothing short of a lie. As much as I wanted to touch him I kept my hands where they were out of fear that he'd jump out of bed and head straight for the door.

"Certainly wasn't expecting dat confession ta come out but dose are da kind of evil men dat Murph and I work hard ta put down. Ya did not'ing wrong in defending yerself from a potential rapist but I do agree dat ya went overboard with da whole taking his eyes out."

I watched with a bit of uncertainty on my face as Connor pushed himself up, hovering above me momentarily before leaning in to whisper in my ear.

"Turn over onta yer back fer me."

A deep sigh escaped as I did what I was told, still feeling nervous that at any point Connor was going to get up and just leave.

"Can I make another confession?"

"If yer in da mood ta confess, ya really should be going ta church with us on Sundays. Da Monsignor's heard plenty out of da two of us about what we've gotten up ta with ya and everyone else we had before ya. Ya should've heard some of da stuff Murph was confessing too when he started having all of dose dirty dreams of ya when he was out screwing around with da whore he was with."

My eyes popped open as the words left his mouth. His lower jaw hung low at the realization of what he just said.

"He told me about her; so much has gone on today that I can't keep it all straight but I do remember when we had our shouting match I told you she called saying she got herself pregnant and tried to pin it on him. Still has me worried that if he did it to her that he won't do the same to me."

"You shouldn't worry about dat, he's too fascinated by ya ta wander off. He's a damn nutter too if I've ever seen one."

"Back to the original question: can you handle another confession?"

"I suppose, not another murder is it?"

"No, not another murder. He wasn't the first that tried to rape me, the other two were tourists. I _almost_ felt bad for one of them; he started feeding us a sob story about how he was there with his wife and kids, begging us to just let him go. If he was telling the truth, he wouldn't have been in the bar that night trying to rape me in the women's bathroom. Everyone that came to town stayed at the motel that his father owned and they all had to drive past the shop that he owned and ran. He was an extremely vigilant person; that asshole never had a wife and kids with him when he came to town. He was just looking to have a good time with someone he thought would be an easy mark and he picked the wrong person after I told him no. My ex walked into the bar and caught him sliding his hand down the front of my jeans while I was sitting on my stool waiting for the old man to come back with dinner."

"How is it dat ya wind up in Utah with someone who makes, takes, and sells drugs? Why would dere be so many attempted rapes against one woman? What was it about ya dat made ya da hot commodity in town? I want ta understand dis, I really do, but ya need ta tell me."

Connor had scooted himself down to the foot of the bed and sat cross-legged with my feet in his lap, his fingers working their magic on my sore arches.

"I don't know how in the hell we ended up together, but we did. It was a small town, maybe a hundred people or so. I guess people thought that with small towns it wouldn't matter who got raped, who got their shit stolen. Couldn't be further from the truth, with small towns word travels fast when the local dealer's girlfriend has something attempted on her. If you wanted your drugs from him, you had to pay up and keep your hands to yourself. He got to me first and in a twisted way I'm glad he did; his friends were worse off than he was, his brother was just creepy, and his father was terrifying. I think that if someone other than him got to me first I'd probably be either dead or held prisoner in one those caves with track marks everywhere.

"You and Murphy will both understand in due time that what happened in Utah has been forever imprinted upon my mind. What happened there will never leave me no matter what I do to try and forget about it. There are things that happened there that I will never tell either of you about because it just hurts too much to re-live those memories. Knowing what I know now that you two are the Saints, I figured telling you the truth about the murder I did commit wouldn't look so bad because they did try to hurt me and I did fight back."

"Good point, had ya committed dose murders senselessly and without just cause it would've looked pretty bad from our point of view. Anyt'ing else ya wanna get off yer chest tonight?"

I sighed deeply as he started working his way up from my feet to my legs, paying careful attention to how his hands and fingers kneaded the flesh under them as he tried to make this as relaxing as possible. I was proud of him to the say the least that he actually listened and was making this experience as little about sex as he could. There was quite a bit that I wanted to tell him but as I reminded myself again, I don't want all the skeletons falling out of the closet at one time. One more truth wasn't going to be the end of the world; hopefully after this we'd both be ready to fall asleep and tomorrow would be a fresh start to a new day.

"I don't know how to begin to understand what you and Murphy see in me. With my ex it was easy: he saw me as a fresh piece of ass and as someone who could take was given to them and dish it back out with just enough tenacity to get their point across. What do you two see in me that makes you want to try and fix me? I have my share of problems but I'm not as far gone as what my sister makes me out to be."

"I can't speak fer Murph, you'd have ta ask him dat yerself. We've both talked with Charlie, Ryan, Aoife, and yer sister. Dey've all told us different t'ings about ya. Charlie and Ryan have told us dat ya like ta have fun but with yer anxiety ya can't handle large crowds. Kind of explains why ya prefer ta hang out at McGinty's with us as opposed ta some of da more popular, upscale places dat we'd never be able ta afford ta take ya ta; ya deserve ta have someone who can afford ta buy ya da t'ings ya want. We would never ta be able ta do dat fer ya. Dey've also told us dat yer a bit of a kinky lass and I found dat out fer meself; I love it when I can have my way with ya and use da rope at da same time.

"Aoife's told us dat ya don't trust people, especially men. With t'ree attempted rapes, I can't say dat I blame ya fer not trusting us. But not all men are out ta get ya like dat; Murph and I work hard ta make sure people like dat are done away with so dey can never hurt anot'er innocent person again. Yer sister's told us how big of a heart ya truly have and ya wear it on yer sleeve. No matter what life t'rows at ya, ya try ta see da good and positive in everyone and every situation and by da time ya've gotten yerself involved ya've already figured out how good or bad it'll get. She said ya could sniff out a lie quicker den a dog sniffing fer drugs. She called ya an optimistic pessimist; I could see where she's coming from t'ough. She also told us dat yer capable of giving a lot of love to dose who need it.

"I told ya before dat nobody would've done what ya did fer me when Murph was in da hospital. Really dat was da t'ing dat drew me in, I want someone who can take care of our dumbasses and can handle us when we start acting like five-year-olds when we get hurt. I wanna be able ta come back ta someone after we do a job and just be held. What we do is not easy and I need someone who can help me decompress and won't ask questions as soon as we walk t'rough da door. In just da few months we've gotten ta know ya, ya give us da space we need without ever knowing we need it and ya don't ask questions on how we've gotten hurt whether it happened at da bar, at work, or out on da street."

"Murph has his reasons fer saying what he did and fer what he told Ma about ya; I cannot answer dose questions but I can say fer certain dat what I see is a strong woman who won't be held down, who will fight back, and is not afraid to kill ta protect herself. You'll do what has ta be done and at da end of da day when yer ready ta wind down and ya can't for whatever reason it may be I want ta be da one who can do dat fer ya. Yer right, not everyt'ing has ta be a lead-in inta sex; if a hot bath and massage is enough ta put ya ta sleep, ta quell da nightmares fer a few hours den dat's what I want ta do fer ya. I understand dat ya may not be able ta put yerself before ot'ers but I want ya to try from now on ta do somet'ing fer yerself at least once a day. If ya can't do dat den do somet'ing fer yerself either once a week or once a month; Murph and I will take care of da rest."

"I don't want someone who can buy me the finer things in life; I just want someone who gets me, someone who can put up with my fears, nightmares, insecurities, pissy mood swings, and act like nothing is wrong when it's that time of the month. I could care less about material things and money; you and Murphy could be dirt poor living in cardboard boxes on the streets below and I wouldn't care. As long as I had one or both of you around, I'd be fine. For God's sake, I was living with and sleeping with the scum of the earth but I didn't care, you know why? He took care of me in a way that no one had before and I took care of him in the same way. We both did things for each other that neither of us was used to but we learned pretty quickly that what we did was okay. He never bought me anything or gave me gifts out of the blue, we never went on any dates; he gave me about $100 a week for grocery shopping and he'd take me out to the bar every once in a while to drink with his friends. I did the traditional 'woman's work' but when I wasn't doing any of that I was either helping him run the shop or in the next town over collecting on the debts that were owed to him."

"How could ya collect on his debts? Dose people were all drug users, what could ya possibly do ta elicit enough fear in 'em ta pay up?" he asked, the light-heartedness in his voice returning as he leaned over me to start working on my shoulders and collarbone.

His thumbs were currently sweeping over the column of my throat as his voice soothed me further into the sleep that was calling my name. Connor was so close that I could breathe him in and if it wasn't for the fact that I was still recounting my life's story, I could fall asleep now completely surrounded by him.

"They all found out what I did to his buddy. He kind of started bragging about it and word travels quickly in small towns; a woman threating to cut your sack off is one thing but a woman who will take your eyes out of your skull without batting a lash is another. Do you want to go to sleep first and wait until morning for me to answer your question from earlier tonight or do you want an answer now and a new start tomorrow?"

"Remind me ta tell Murph ta never piss you off. What was da question again?"

"How I got all the way up here without raising suspicions."

"I'll take option two and would like answers tonight and a new start tomorrow. Yer new start will begin once you and Charlie part ways. If ya don't have any plans in da morning after he leaves, wanna go down ta da diner with me fer breakfast?"

"That's fine with me, I'm out of a job for right now anyway. It's not like I'm going to be super busy anymore. Like I told Smecker, I legally changed my name after my ex got me mixed up in some shit he never meant too; I'll tell you that one over breakfast. I used my birth name to get that job at the museum and to get into school. I lied on the applications when they asked if I had gone by any other aliases. The forensics lead down at the station is asking me to fill out a new application for the internship using my birth name even though that's what I did the first time. For some reason I let my ex talk me into dyeing my hair blonde after we got out so after he died I had my cousin, who works at a hair salon, strip the dye out and re-dye it until my natural color started coming back in."

The answer seemed to satisfy him for the time being but I was fairly certain that he'd come up with more questions to ask in the morning over breakfast. Until then I would just have to keep telling myself that tomorrow is a new day and a new start. Cracking an eye open, I watched him place the bottle of lotion on the bedside table for the night and switch the lamp off. I was overcome with a sudden chill as he rolled off of me and made a grab for the blankets at the end of the bed, throwing them over our shamelessly naked bodies. I rolled over onto my left side and readjusted my pillow before sinking into sleep. The comforting weight of an arm thrown over my waist and the other snaking its way through my hair and wrapping around my neck and shoulders provided that familiar feeling of being safe again. Being pulled into his chest brought back the sense of being loved again. The nightmares were coming once more in a few short hours but maybe I will have one less than I did the previous night.

"Still can't believe ya let him mark ya up da way he did, whether ya wanted him ta do it or not."

I could feel Connor's fingers running over the teeth impressions on my left side as I slipped in and out consciousness.

"I wanted him to and he was more than happy to oblige. The teeth and his name on my neck are not the only marks I have from him."

I didn't realize I said it until Connor switched the lamp on again, taking it off of the nightstand and throwing the blankets back to examine me more closely.

"Ya let da bastard bleed ya out?!"

He practically screamed it loud enough that the neighbors were banging on the wall between our units. I was lying on my back with Connor straddling my hips, holding the lamp above my stomach where the scar ran from my chest down to my stomach; much like how a coroner would create the end of a Y-incision on a person they were about to open up.

"He did _not_ make that mark, someone else did and it was _not_ consensual when it happened. Even though I let him partake in a little bit of knife play he was more into bondage. You know that black rope in the closet that you like so much? The one with the frayed ends and coming apart in different places? That was his favorite piece of rope. The marks he left ran deeper and lasted longer than the ones you and Murphy have put on me. I don't just mean visible marks, there are emotional scars too."

Connor looked uneasy but temporarily satisfied that my ex did not cause the injury that he found. I watched as he set the lamp back down on the nightstand, switching it off once more. I turned back onto my side to look out the window; it was a half-moon tonight and even with the clouds blocking out a good portion of the light there was just enough coming in to cast a shadow on the fire escape. For a second I thought I saw something outside but it was gone all too fast for me to process what it could have been.

My head became disconnected with the pillow for a brief minute; Connor was re-wrapping his arm under my neck and across my shoulders, pulling me back into his chest.

"I've had to be strong for so long; can I even allow myself to be anything less? Can I let myself be broken?"

It wasn't meant to be answered, it was just one of those fleeting thoughts that I openly ask myself just about every night when I stare out my window into the blackness. Thinking back on what Murphy had told me, when he confessed to watching me from the window as the nightmares would take over, I couldn't help but wonder if he was watching both Connor and I now. If he was taking in the scene of his brother trying to help relieve the tension that had been consistently building over the days, weeks, and months since I came back home from my extended Christmas break. Maybe that's what I saw a moment ago, or maybe that's what my mind is trying to trick me into believing.

"Yes, ya can. I'll be dere ta put ya back together, Murph will be dere ta put ya back together. I know it's hard fer ya ta let yer guard down but ya have ta trust what I'm telling ya."

"It's easier said than done. I'm not doubting that it's not possible, but if you could've seen everything that I've had to deal with you would see why I always have to keep my suspicions about me. For three years I've been hiding in plain sight and for those three years I've had to constantly look over my shoulder and keep one eye open when I sleep."

"How much of what ya told me does Murph know?"

Connor somehow managed to pull me even closer; I ended up rolling onto my back so I could see his face. Even in the darkness, the thinnest stream of moonlight that came into the room showed the concern in his eyes that had remained throughout the night.

"Not nearly half as much as what I told you. I know what you're going to ask next and the answer would be that he didn't ask the questions that you did. If you don't ask, I won't tell. If Murphy has questions he wants to ask, he's more than welcome to do so. Until that time it is what it is."

"Where were ya before ya came here?"

"I was living in Chicago before I came here; I was working for another museum at the time. It was a Friday night and I had just gotten paid so I was gonna head for home, pay the rent, pay the bills and spend a little bit at the bar. That was the plan but as we all know with plans not everything works out. I was getting off the bus when someone shoved me from behind, I fell to the ground and someone was nice enough to help me back to my feet; I thanked them and tried to go on my merry way but they held a grip on my arm and dragged me to a black Lincoln with blacked out windows."

A shudder ran down my back as I started to relive the moment, watching it flash before my eyes as everything happened once more.

"Hey, dey're not gonna hurt ya anymore. Dey'll have ta get past me and Murph ta get ta ya."

I nodded before I pressed on.

"They put a bag over my head, tied my hands, and threw me into the trunk. Being claustrophobic, I naturally freaked out; I guess I was making so much noise that they pulled over somewhere and got out because the next thing I know they're shoving a needle in my arm and I'm passed out a few seconds later. Somehow or other, I managed to get the bag off of my head, as soon as the trunk was popped open I tried to get out; at least I did _try_ before they shoved that needle in. I woke up later in a room stripped naked with a rag stuffed in my mouth strung up by my arms and my feet weighed down with cinder blocks. They kept asking where my ex was, where their supply was. I had no idea what he made stretched that far out. There were five of them; they each took turns beating the holy hell out of me and when I still refused to talk-"

I broke off as the images of what they did to me flood my memory. For the first time, in a long time, I let myself break, I let myself be weak, I let myself cry. My hands shook as I tried to hide my face. Through the tears I managed to pick out Connor's form; he was on his knees leaning over me, pulling me up by my wrists to settle me in his lap. One hand was in my hair, the other pulled me impossibly close to him, rubbing my back. His voice spoke placating words of comfort as he tried to calm me down.

"Ya don't have ta say what dey did. Ya don't have ta say anymore, I won't put ya t'rough dat pain anymore. C'mon lay back down. I won't let 'em get ya."

Somehow I felt like I was six years old again; when I'd wake up from a bad dream and go to my parent's room. Remembering how I'd wake my mom up and she'd let me sleep in between them; how my dad would tell me that he wouldn't let the monsters in those bad dreams hurt me anymore that night.

Reluctantly, I laid back down on the pillow still shaking as the recollections of those two weeks rocked me to my very core. Connor pulled me close, keeping his hands where they were until he felt that I was calm enough to breathe a little easier. It didn't dawn on me until later that I found myself nuzzling his neck, trying to find some kind of familiarity in him to provide that sense of being safe. Although I wasn't going to say anything to him about it out loud, the soothing words and the comforting touch of his hands did help more than he could ever imagine.

"Is dat how ya got dat scar on yer stomach?"

The question was posed as gently as Connor could make it; uncertainty was behind each word as it escaped his mouth. He traced the fingers of his free hand along the jagged line as I winced at the memories it continued to bring up. Each day for those two weeks I was there they would open it further and further. I was told that one day they were finally going to cut through and watch in delight as my guts spilled out onto the floor.

Swallowing hard, I nodded against his chest, acknowledging that I got the scar as a result of what happened while living in Chicago.

Silence ticked away into the night as I fought to slow my heart rate. It almost fell into a steady rhythm once more when Connor's voice in my ear startled me a bit, sending it racing all over again.

"May be a bit hard ta believe, but when we were little and she was sober Ma used ta tell us da story of Oisin and Tír na nÓg. Ya wanna hear it?"

A lazy smile started forming across my face as I reached a hand up to wipe away a few stray tears. Much as I hate to admit it, I love this man and I love how much he's trying.

"Do you know the shortened version of it?"

Connor placed a gentle kiss on the top of my head before he started the story. It was one I had heard before while I was an undergrad. When I was learning Irish and was preparing for my final, my professor had me memorize the entire story in Irish. The hard part was reciting the entire story in Irish; with the exception of a few mispronunciations, I managed to get a 97 on my final.

I fell asleep somewhere in between when Oisin and Niamh were married and Oisin taking the white horse back across the sea to Ireland. The last thing I heard before falling asleep for the night was Connor's voice in my ear telling me he wasn't gonna let them hurt me again. My head was pressed against his chest as I heard the rhythm of his heart slow with his breathing. I couldn't help but think how right Connor's earlier question was. Why couldn't we just stay like this, why couldn't we tell the world to go fuck itself and we stay just as we are. And then I remembered that he was one half of the infamous Saints. This world needed him as much as I did. This world needed Murphy as much as I did.

Connor only told me a little bit of an old man with a gray beard and a vest holding six handguns; told me that he was waiting for them after a job they had done. I had a nagging sensation that what Connor did tell me about their outlaw lives as The Saints was selective and would only answer the questions that were asked. He was taking evasive measures much like I was when it comes down to how much knowledge is too much. I never would've imagined that this was what they did when they left after dinner; since Rocco brought it up it may be best to ask him for the full story the next time I saw him. There's much more to it than what Connor's telling me.

One last evanescent thought that crept into my mind before the sound of his heartbeat put me to sleep for the night was what would happen to them while I was out of town in June taking care of business. My gut was telling me that something was going to happen and what that something was I couldn't be sure but I knew it wasn't going to end well. I was never the praying type but I offered one up in the hopes that I was wrong for a change. Something big was going to happen and there was nothing I could do to stop it from happening.


	36. Chapter 36

_Hello and good evening my loves! I hope everyone's weekend went well and your Monday flew by (I know mine did!) I figured that I would get this posted tonight as I still have to finish packing for the Walker Stalker Cruise and will have absolutely no time beyond tonight to get his posted. If anyone else is cruising, feel free to PM and maybe we could meet up somewhere for drinks. Just a brief reminder that we're getting down to the final chapters so if you would like to see a continuation let me know. I have something in the works but have not decided 100% on whether or not to do anything with it. As always, comments & reviews are welcome and feel free to PM me with any suggestions you may have._

 **Chapter 36**

As the morning sun broke through the blinds of my bedroom windows, I felt a body stirring behind me but the weight of the arm around my middle was not Connor's. I rolled over onto my other side as gently as I could without waking the sleeping person next to me to find Murphy with his head tucked down. I guess this would explain the lump on my neck and why I woke up in the first place. He looked genuinely peaceful but his face looked more haggard than it had previously; his brow was furrowed like he was in deep concentration and he was grunting a little bit as his hand tightened its grip around my waist.

"Must be one hell of a dream he's having." I whispered to myself, leaning in to gently kiss his forehead before I made an attempt to escape the warmth of his embrace and the bed. After a half dozen beers last night and Connor's massage I really needed to go to the bathroom.

As I was swinging my legs over the side of the bed, my eyes sprung open as that all too familiar feeling of the floodgates opening hit me. This shit wasn't supposed to start until tomorrow but I guess I deserved this as my punishment for putting them through everything that I did earlier this week. I carefully, quickly, and quietly got out of the bed and grabbed a clean pair of underwear from the dresser, going straight into the bathroom, completely ignoring Connor as he greeted me from the kitchen. Neither of them had ever seen me on the first day of this time of the month but they were going to be in for a wake-up call when they saw bitch-zilla. The worst part is that there's nothing anyone could do about it until Sunday when I could start taking the pill again.

As I stood at the sink splashing a bit of water onto my face I started wondering where in the hell my clothes from the night before went. I remember my bra going into the sink on top of Connor's shirt, neither of which were there when I came in. The hand towel that Connor had used that fell short of the basket was now in the basket to be washed. Connor was wearing the jeans from yesterday when I passed him on my here. As silly as it may have seemed, I scratched my head for a bit before giving up my search and retreated back to the bedroom through the walk-in closet.

Rummaging through the drawers again, I pulled out a loose fitting t-shirt and my favorite pair of yoga pants. I had them since high school and even though they were literally falling apart no one but the twins would ever see me in them. Connor had taken the opportunity to learn my habits a bit while Murphy was in the hospital and learned just last month that I only wear this particular pair of pants during that time of the month. He questioned my choice of clothing one night and the best answer I could offer him in between whiskey shots was that my body couldn't make up its mind of whether or not it wanted to be hot or cold so rather than fuck with the heating pad or a fan I chose to wear something falling apart. Connor concluded my drunken reasoning to be nothing more than sincoherent babble. There are just some things that are better left alone and my choice in clothing while on my period was just one of those things.

Glancing up in the mirror, I saw Murphy still lying in bed right where I left him. Looking over my shoulder, my alarm clock read 7:02 am. It was still way too early to be up and functioning, plus the bed looked so inviting. Maybe laying back down for a little longer wouldn't be such a bad idea. Besides that, the fan was still running and Murphy did look a bit lonely sleeping in bed by himself. Smiling to myself, I walked back to bed and climbed back in, throwing the blankets around until I got comfortable again. It was not my intention but I thought I might've woken Murphy up a little bit in my venture to get situated; he picked his head up off of the pillow, cracking his eyes open a smidgen, and allowed his head to hit the pillow once more. I quickly fell back asleep with Murphy pulling me close, his hand flexing and relaxing on my hip as I assumed he was having another dream though this one seems to have been more intense than the last judging by the way he was digging his fingers into me.

I woke up a short time later, the cramps were starting to take hold and I knew that sleep was no longer a viable option if I didn't want to wake Murphy up again. Carefully extracting myself from the bed for the second time this morning, I looked over at the alarm clock as it read 7:34 am; only an extra half hour of sleep. Groaning a bit, I got up and trudged over to the dresser and shut the fan off before leaving the room and letting Murphy get some sleep.

"Connor, before you start I'm warning you now that I just started my period this morning; from today through Monday you will see a side of me you've never seen before. I'm sorry, but I'm not in the mood for anyone's bullshit today."

Shutting the bedroom door behind me, I found Connor glancing over his shoulder at the sound of the door creaking on its hinges. He had been sitting on the couch with a coffee cup in hand and the news turned on when I spotted him.

"Um, okay…I was just going ta tell ya good morning, but okay."

Connor followed me into the kitchen as I started going through the pantries and cupboards in search of the emergency stash that I kept for this time of the month. Usually the stash consisted of chocolate, a 24-pack of bottled water, a heating pad, muscle relaxers, and a ton of whiskey; if I could afford it I would have it brought up by the barrel straight from Tennessee. My doctor had prescribed the muscle relaxers pills for me specifically for this purpose since ibuprofen and other over the counter pain meds didn't do squat. For this morning though a bottle of water and the heating pad were what I needed. I could take one of my muscle relaxers after Connor and I got back from the diner. Today was going to be a long fucking day.

Connor had come up behind me while I was searching for what I needed, setting things on the counter for me as I pulled them out. He currently had his arms wrapped around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder as I opened another cabinet to look for my heating pad. The heat coming off his chest was seeping into my back, helping to relax the muscles a bit as they started to tighten up.

"Could you answer the door please?" I asked when a prominent knock sounded while I was stretched up on the tips of my toes, trying desperately to reach the cord of the heating pad that got shoved on to the shelves above the stove.

"Charlie's here." Connor announced, coming back into the kitchen to find me still struggling to get the heating pad down. Coming up from behind me, he reached an arm out and grabbed it, taking it down with ease. "Ya look really cute in da morning when yer all frustrated, ya know dat?" He laughed, seeing the irritated look on my face, the corners of his eyes crinkling the wider his smile grew.

"Fuck off, it's too early in the morning to be dealing with this shit. Here's the badge back, Charlie." I told him, grabbing the item off of the kitchen counter, making an attempt to be as nice as possible but he only looked at me like I was a vile being who was unworthy of even being acknowledged.

He set the box of my personal belongings down on the floor at his feet but made no attempt to reach out for the security badge that I was offering him. He was acting as if my hand were diseased and flinched when I let out an annoyed huff. Glancing over at Connor, I handed it to him hoping that if a third-party was touching it he may take it and just leave.

"How is it that you're still walking freely among the general public? You're a dangerous criminal and those Saints should put you down like the savage animal that you are."

My back was turned when he said it as I went back to the cupboard to pull out a mini-Hersey bar (the last one). I was going to regret it later when the cramps started putting in for overtime but right now I felt like it would be worth it in the end.

"Connor, get him out of here before he can see just how savage I can become." My voice shaking as I did my best to keep my anger in check.

I heard Connor's voice drop half an octave as he walked Charlie to the front door; it had taken on a more serious, threatening tone. I would have to ask him over breakfast what he told him since Murphy had just gotten up and started closing the bedroom door behind him, rubbing a bit of the sleep from his eyes and shuffling his feet towards the bathroom. I loved watching Murphy wake up in the morning; he looked absolutely adorable with that patch of hair at the back of his head sticking up.

Both the bathroom door and the front door closed at the same time and I walked out of the kitchen carrying my heating pad, water bottle, and mini piece of chocolate into the living room. In order to plug the heating pad in I had to move the couch away from the wall to reach the outlet and lean over. When my task was accomplished I started to get the feeling that I was being watched; glancing over my shoulder I found both Connor and Murphy standing side by side in the doorway of the kitchen with their heads cocked in the same direction watching my ass as it moved.

"See something you like?" I smirked, pushing myself off the couch and bending over to push the couch back into place.

"Several t'ings actually." Murphy started, taking a step towards the couch.

Connor stopped him, putting a hand on his shoulder and whispering something in his ear before having one their silent twin conversations. I hate it when they do this shit first thing in the morning; I know they're talking about me and even though it wasn't anything bad knowing that my name is spoken in another language or silently is irritating.

"Since you two are in the mood for secrets and silence I guess I'll just sit here and wait until you're ready to go to breakfast this morning, Connor."

"Go get dressed and we'll leave. Just didn't wanna go until after Charlie came by with yer t'ings and da exchange was done. Now dat it's done I was just informing me dear, sweet baby brudder about da condition yer gonna be in fer da next few days."

"It happens every fucking month, how is that a condition? You know what, I will give you both one warning and one warning only: do _not_ push my buttons for the next five days otherwise I will bring the wrath of hell down upon you both. I will make your mother look like an angel in comparison to what I can do."

"Duly noted; when ya get back from breakfast I'll be here waiting fer ya. Go on and get dressed." Murphy added, his hand landing on my right ass cheek with a resounding crack in an attempt to motivate me.

I emerged from the bedroom a couple of minutes later with my hair pulled back and dressed in something that was certainly not appropriate for the weather we were having. It was pure laziness on my part but for the next five days I'm allowed to be lazy. I had changed into a tank-top and a (nicer) pair of pants; although I don't think a pair of hole-free sweatpants is all that much of an upgrade. They both looked at me like I was insane upon seeing the top I was wearing and tried to convince me to change into something warmer.

"I don't care how cold it is outside, I am sweating my ass off right now and the less clothing I have on the better I'll feel as all hell breaks loose in the middle of Southie."

"Okay, okay, we'll drop it but next time dress a little more appropriately for da weather. I don't wanna see ya get sick." Connor resigned to the fact that I wasn't going to budge and grabbed my heavy sweater off the back of the door, holding it open for me to slip on.

"You worry too much, you know that?"

We walked to the diner in a comfortable silence, listening to the remnants of the melting snow crunch beneath our feet. It was about 35 degrees outside, enough to start thawing the city out but still cold enough to bundle up in warmer clothing if my body wasn't already a furnace. We sat down and placed our orders shortly after we got there. It was still really in the morning so the place was practically empty with the exception of two other tables.

Since we were frequent customers of this place we pretty much had the menu memorized and most of the staff knew who we were and how we liked our food prepared. Connor got a stack of pancakes, a side of hash browns, and a side of sausage with gravy. He also got a biscuit and gravy to go for Murphy. I on the other hand, opted for just a piping hot cup of coffee and a glass of ice. Anything that I attempted to eat today was going to be coming back up anyway so I may as well try avoiding solid foods until tomorrow.

"Is dat all yer going ta have? I'm paying so ya don't have ta feel like being a cheap date." Connor started before shoving a fork-full of pancakes slathered in syrup and butter into his mouth. Pretty much an early morning type of food porn, seeing all of that really made me hungry.

"I can't eat anything during the first 24 hours otherwise it comes right back up. It happens every month for the first day or so and there's nothing I can do about it. There's no magic pill the doctor can give me, just nothing. It's been like this since my first one back in the sixth grade when I was 11. Coffee, water, and tea are just about the only thing I can handle without getting sick. Even then I will probably end up on my knees praying to the porcelain God" I explained, spooning a couple of pieces of ice from the glass into the coffee cup.

"Damn, dat really does suck. I'm so glad I was not brought inta dis world as a lass; ya get so much shit fer being a woman and da world looks down its nose at ya when ya try ta break da lines dat it has assigned ta ya."

"Being a woman has its advantages; at least we all know I'm not pregnant." I laughed as Connor glanced up at me with half a piece of sausage hanging out of his mouth, a little bit of the gravy dripping down off of his chin.

"Dis is true, neither of us are ready ta be dads yet and ya made it quite clear dat ya don't want kids running around calling ya mommy."

We sat in silence again for a few minutes, listening to the cook in the kitchen scraping the flat top grill clean of all the drippings from the meals that have been cooking on it since before we walked in. This place was open 24 hours a day so we were part of the early morning crowd; the morning rush would start around 9:00 and die down around 10:30 – 11:00. They really did have some good food and the smell of the hash browns sitting on the small plate in front of me was wafting through my nostrils, calling my name and beckoning me to just take one bite.

"What did you say to Charlie on the way out when I was trying to get the rest of my stuff out of the cabinet?"

"Pretty much not ta show his face in Southie ever again if he wanted ta leave with all of his limbs intact. Yer a savage animal but not in da context dat he meant it. Today is a new day and a new start; ya don't need people like him around if all dey're gonna do is judge ya because of yer past. Murph and I can both see dat yer trying ta fix yerself and we'll stand behind ya ta pick ya up when ya fall."

"I hate to ask, but is there anything else you want to know about Utah that you didn't ask me about last night? Or Chicago? I'll be honest with you right now that the shit in Chicago is something I really don't want to talk about but I will if you want me too."

"Nah, I put ya t'rough enough last night. Seeing ya break down like dat over da scar on yer chest and stomach, I don't want ya ta re-live dose nightmares when ya already have enough of dose."

"Thank you."

I sat staring at my coffee, chewing at the inside of my bottom lip as the questions I wanted to ask about their work as The Saints started flooding my head. But given where we were they would not be appropriate to ask, especially if someone overheard him say something and turned them in on suspicion of murder. I guess Connor was picking up the burning questions because he said he'd tell me a bit more about it later after he had a chance to let Murphy know that I know who they were. He didn't want there to be any surprises and wanted as calm a discussion as was possible.

"You think he's gonna be pissed that I know?"

"He ain't gonna happy dat's fer sure, but he'll get over it. Like ya said last night, if ya want a relationship ta work ya have ta be able ta handle da person's past issues. But I'm gonna add ta dat, anot'er part of wanting a relationship ta work is being able ta handle current issues and being able ta t'ink with a clear mind and not letting yer emotions get da best of ya. I'll only ask ya dis one time because I need ta hear it fer meself. Can _you_ handle everyt'ing _I_ told ya last night? Can you take care of us when we need ya to? Can you listen ta what we tell you with no questions asked? Ya don't have ta answer right away, but da sooner ya have an answer da better."

It was definitely going to be something I would need to stew over. In my heart I already knew the answer, but I didn't want to give an answer right away just in case my mind tried talking me out of my decision.

Our server this morning was Louise; she was an older woman who had been working at the diner pretty much her entire life. She started working here when the place first opened shortly after her sixteenth birthday and has seen it change hands at least 4 times that she could remember. The menu was exactly the same as it had been when it opened; the only real change to it had been the prices. One of my favorite things about coming here was getting to listen to all of the stories she had to offer when it was pretty much empty, much like right now. The first time I came here with the twins she managed to dig out a couple of the menus from opening day. The price for a cup of coffee then had been 10 cents and before taxes Connor's meal would've cost him $3.50. Louise reminded us that in 1950 $3.50 for that much food was a lot of money for one person to spend if he was by himself. I also liked the fact that she knew our names and greeted us as soon as we walked through the door. Honestly, she really was my favorite person here.

"Alright kids, here's the biscuits and gravy for Murphy and here's the check. Connor, you and your brother behave yourselves, understand me? Red, sweetie, I saw the news the other day; if you need another job you can always come here. If you haven't guessed by now us old time Southies take care of our own no matter what."

"Thank you Louise, but I think I'm going take it easy for a little bit and wait for the heat to die down before I start job hunting again. Who knew taking care of one MacManus would turn into a full-time job?"

"Does it pay well?"

"Depends on how you look at it. I get paid in massages and sex, so I guess it does." I joked watching Connor's jaw hit the table at my bluntness.

Louise laughed a bit too before picking up the check and the cash Connor laid out on the table. She returned a short time later with the change and a fresh pot of coffee, refilling both our cups. Since Connor didn't have to be at work until almost noon and had already gone to confession at the ass crack of dawn, we could just sit, relax, and talk about virtually anything.

"I can't believe ya told her we pay ya in massages and sex fer taking care of Murph. Have ya no discretion when yer out in public?"

"Connor, it was a joke, lighten up a little bit. I think I was exercising discretion; at least she wasn't asking for the details although if you get up and leave for the bathroom I will almost guarantee that she will come over while you're gone to start asking questions. If it comes down to that then mums the word. I won't say anything about what we do behind closed doors because that's our business, not hers."

At the moment it felt like my head was swimming and at any time I could lose consciousness and pass out. Maybe coming here was a bad idea afterall. Maybe I should've just talked him into staying home and I could've made everything he just ate. The smell of Murphy's biscuits and gravy now had me feeling nauseated. Excusing myself from the table, I made my way to the bathroom as the all too familiar feeling of a watery mouth started taking hold as the bile tried to work its way up and out.

I wasn't sure how long it was that I stood in front of the mirror grasping the sink with my head hung low before a knock on the door broke the concentration I had on my breathing. Glancing up in the mirror as the door slowly cracked open I watched as Louise made her way in, carefully closing the door behind her.

"Honey, are you alright? You look like you've seen death."

Pushing off of the sink, scrubbing my hands over my face I briefly explained that it was just that time of the month. Louise nodded in understanding, patting my shoulder saying wait until I hit menopause. Oh great, another piece of hell on earth to look forward to in my old age; if I live to see my senior years.

"You know, Connor's getting a bit worried about ya out there. I had to stop him myself from coming in here to check on you. Are you sure that you're alright? You look pretty pale-"

"I promise, I'm alright. When we get back I'm gonna take something and go straight back to bed. I just need a few more minutes before I go back out there."

I forced a smile but I knew that Louise could see that I was anything but alright. Pulling the door open, I could see Connor standing at the door trying to see past Louise as she pushed him away from the door telling him to go sit back down.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled a few paper towels out of the caddy, wetting them a bit and swiped them over my face to cool my heated skin down as well as wipe away a bit of the sweat that had started dripping down my neck. Tossing the towels into the trash can, I squared my shoulders back and made my way out of the bathroom and back to where Connor was seated. His back was to me but I could tell by the way his shoulders were set that he was in deep thought over something.

"Hey, you okay?" I returned to my seat across from him, seeing his face he appeared to be a bit lost in thought.

"You were in dere fer awhile, getting a bit worried about ya."

"I'd be lying if I said was alright. I don't mean to make you worry, but I promise I'll be okay in a couple of days."

We sat in silence for a little longer, each of us occasionally picking up our respective coffee cups and sipping at them as the cook scraped the flat top grill once more and Louise called out for another order of pancakes. The cramps were starting to get stronger and the urge to throw up was starting to come back. I needed to get back home soon if I wanted a fighting chance of staying conscious and on my own two feet.

"Would it be alright if we left now? I'm not feeling very well."

He nodded his head and finished off the remainder of the coffee that sat in his cup before getting up to pull his pea coat back on. He got out of the side of the booth that he was seated at first then extended his hand out to help me get back on my feet again. I started feeling a little dizzy upon standing and held onto his hand just a fraction of a second longer than I normally would.

"Ya don't look so good, are ya gonna be okay ta walk home or would ya prefer-"

"Let's see if we can get a cab or something, I don't think I can make it back home without passing out."

"You sit back down, put yer head down if ya have to. I'll see what Louise can do in a pinch."

Connor helped me back down into my seat, resting my head in my arms as he had suggested. It wasn't long before Connor's voice was in my ear and his hands were on my shoulders trying to wake me up.

"C'mon, Peg's gonna give us a ride home. I got Murph's food so don't even t'ink about getting it. C'mon let's get yer sweater on, dis arm first…now dis one. Can ya get up on yer own or do ya need a hand?"

Taking Connor's hand I stood for a second, wobbling as the world around me spun like a top. Peggy was another server who was still on her break and from Connor's explanation had offered to take us home after he told her and Louise the situation. The closer we got to home, the worst I got; the car ride was extremely rough and bumpy. Not to mention the pothole that we hit caused my stomach to lurch just enough that I bolted out of the car while it was still in motion so I didn't puke inside. Peg was nice enough to take it slow and easy the rest of the way home after that; she even turned on her emergency lights until she pulled up to the curb.

The ride on the lift was just as bad as being in the car, except instead of sitting I was leaning heavily against a filthy wall with sweat dripping down the sides of my face, fighting to keep my breathing even and my eyes open. Somewhere between the second and third floors though my stomach started turning once more and the cramps were bad enough that I had fallen to the ground to try and curl up in the fetal position.

"Murph! Get out here now!" Connor's voice bellowed out in my ear as he struggled to keep me upright while juggling the food and trying to get the door shut.

By the time Murphy came through the hallway to find out what was going on, I had fallen to my knees and started crawling towards the bathroom to try and reach out so I can offer up my prayers to the porcelain God.

"Ya look like ya've seen Death." Murphy commented, kneeling behind me and hold my hair back.

I always did hate when people around me made that comment. I had seen my reflection in the mirror too many times after an event such as this and knew that any color I had in my face earlier this morning was completely drained, my eyes appeared to have sunken in, the circles around my eyes looking darker and more prominent. I could feel the sweat pouring off the top of my head, running down my face and the back of neck into the recesses of the shirt I was wearing. It felt like at any given moment I'd be nothing short of a zombie with a heartbeat.

"Help me get to the couch, please?" I asked my voice was strained and weak. I needed to get that heating pad on and I _really_ needed one of my muscle relaxers. At least I left the heating pad turned on low before I left.

They each hooked a hand under my armpits and helped me to my feet, taking slow steps so as not to jostle me around too much should I end up getting sick to my stomach all over again. When we finally reached the couch, I leaned forward to grab onto the arm and pull myself along until I got to the seat cushion my heating pad was laying on, turning it on to 'high' as I took a few deep breathes to slow my increasing heartbeat.

"Anyt'ing we can do fer ya, lass?" Murphy's voice was laced with concern as he knelt in front of me, pushing the loose strands of hair back from my face.

"Could you get me one of my pain pills out of the bathroom? They're in the medicine cabinet and it's called Tramadol. It's a little 10 mg pill; I just need one though. That's some pretty strong stuff so it'll knock me out for at least the next three or four hours."

"Do ya wanna go lay down in yer bed before or after ya take it? I don't mind carrying ya in dere meself; head injury be damned."

"I'll wait until after I take it and it kicks in. If you guys want to go back up to your place, I understand. I've been dealing with these for the past 16 years and the worst is yet to come. Even my dad and my ex were both smart enough to get the hell out of Dodge so they didn't have to see what's about to happen next," they both looked at me in confusion so I pressed on, "without the muscle relaxer, the cramps are bad enough that in the past I have broken the legs off of a solid wood table and ended up in the hospital because my mom thought my appendix had ruptured. My temper flairs at the smallest things; think of it as the old Godzilla movies where he's rampaging through the city, destroying shit, and that annoying screech comes out of his mouth. That is pretty much what you'll be dealing with for the next five days in a nutshell if you choose to stay here."

"What happens when ya do take yer pills? Does it make it a little more tolerable at least?" Connor asked, returning from the bathroom holding the pill bottle out for me.

"When I do take this, it pretty much knocks me on my ass for half the day. I chose not to take it before we left this morning because I knew I would've fallen asleep before we got even half way to the diner and I didn't want you to have to carry me all the way back. Technically, I'm supposed to eat something before I take it but as you've both seen I can't really hold anything down at the moment. It does not make this time of the month more tolerable, it just temporarily numbs the pain long enough that I can get some decent sleep." I took the bottle from his outstretched hand and pushed the cap down to open it then pulled out one of the tiny 10 mg pills before replacing the cap and handing it back to him.

While Connor was in the bathroom putting the meds back in the cabinet, Murphy got up from the floor and pulled me forward so he could sit behind me. Little did he know that he just signed off on being my human pillow for the next couple of days and that if he was within arm's reach that he could add a whole new meaning to the word 'pain' to his dictionary. After the first year of living with my ex he finally had the courage to ask me what it was like having cramps that bad. I offered to show him out in the caves but my explanation was enough to even make his stomach turn in revulsion.

Connor came back and sat at the other end of the couch, picking my feet up and laying them across his lap. The three of us laid there watching one of my favorite Gene Kelly movies that came on t.v. while I was slowly drifting in and out of consciousness until I finally fell asleep wrapped up in Murphy's arms. The last thing I remembered before my eyes shut was my hair being taken down and Murphy's stubble-lined cheek gently scratching against my neck. Oh, how I love that feeling; I swear there was nothing else like it on the planet. After that I could only remember the nightmares as they plagued me in my sleep. There were several times when it seemed to be too great to endure, that I would feel something reassuring wrap around me and a gentle voice in my ear telling me that everything's alright.

When I finally woke up, my bed was empty and the sunlight had faded away from the bedroom. Without looking at the clock my best guess was that it was sometime in the late afternoon or early evening hours. I still felt like complete and utter shit but being able to sleep the day away felt great. A thunderous sound followed by a torrent of curses broke the quiet of the apartment and I quickly ran out to see what the commotion was all about. I stood in the doorframe of the bedroom to find both Connor and Murphy in the kitchen with my pots and pans lying all over the floor, food be-speckling my ceiling and walls, smoke pouring out of the oven door and the sink over-flowing with dishes. My only thought was how the fuck did all of this happen?

"Quit fucking hitting me and help me get dis cleaned up before…" Murphy shouted as Connor fell silent and began slapping the back of his hand against his brother's side.

I could feel my bottom lip quivering and my eyes well up with unshed tears as I took a careful step forward towards what used to be my kitchen. Curse these fucking hormones! Now they get to see me go from one end of the spectrum to the other quicker than Steve McQueen's mustang fastback in _Bullitt_. It was another one of Connor's favorite movies and I'm sure he'd appreciate the reference under different circumstances.

"Don't cry, it was an accident I swear! We were trying ta make dinner for ya and Connor was trying ta help me get it out of da oven and den da stuff in da pot exploded…"

"Get out of my fucking kitchen, _NOW_! Just leave the fucking shit where it is and get out."

"But-" Connor started before I held my hand up to silence them, pointing towards the couch in the living room.

They slid past me silently as they made their way into the living room with their tails tucked firmly between their legs. If I had to hazard a guess, I would image this is what they would've looked like when they got into a heap of trouble when they were little and their Ma would punish them. I could hear them in the living room speaking to each other in German but they fell into one of their silent twin conversations after I started shooting them dirty looks. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and stepped forward into the kitchen to find out what the damage was.

Every pot and pan I owned was filled with food of some sort; one had a red sauce in it, one had an Alfredo sauce, a small plate had what used to be fried eggplant on it, and a medium-sized pan had hot oil sitting in it. The oven continued to pour out smoke even though it was turned off and the vent fan was turned on high. The ceiling was splattered with the red sauce and was dripping off in globs back onto the stove top and the floor. The square pan I would use to bake chicken in was sitting on the floor, blackened to a crisp. The food was beyond salvageable and I was almost certain the pan had also gone the way of the Dodo.

"Murphy, what the fuck happened in here? And don't you _dare_ lie to me."

"I wanted ta make ya dinner since ya haven't eaten anyt'ing all day and da smoke alarm started going off when Connor came in. I tried ta get da chicken out of da oven but I turned me back fer one second and da sauces started exploding out of dere pots and den da eggplant started burning. I'm really sorry." He had gotten up from where he was seated on the couch and stood behind me; I could see him out of the corner of my eye chewing on his thumb as he carefully raked his brain for the right words.

"I don't mean ta be tooting my own horn but da smoke alarm was going off because I'm just dat hot."

"Connor, shut up otherwise you'll be the one in here cleaning this up on your own. Murphy, I appreciate the effort but next time you want to make me a meal, stick with frozen pizza or microwave dinners. Use of the kitchen appliances requires adult supervision, okay? Neither of you hurt yourselves, did you?"

"I burnt me hands trying ta get da pan out of da oven. I wasn't t'inking and just grabbed da towel off da counter. I promise I'll get dis cleaned up and looking like new again in no time."

I took ahold of his hands at the word 'burn' and saw the blisters forming. He just saw Rocco burn his hands on hot metal last night pulling a pan full of pizza out, how in the hell could he have not been taking mental notes? Much like last night, I ran his hands under the faucet of cold water until the sting of the burn dissipated then let him go about getting the kitchen cleaned up and put back in order. Even though Connor had nothing to do with what happened, he got up from the couch to help his brother.

"I will need to borrow your lighter when you're done in there."

"Yer not gonna light us on fire are ya?"

"That's a pretty tempting idea, but no. I need something to sterilize one of my sewing needles with so I can pop those blisters on your hands. They'll get infected otherwise."

"Will it hurt?"

"Murphy, you work at a meat packing plant, your hands are rough and calloused; unless you are an overgrown child like Rocco is, it is not going to hurt. Now if you flinch and pull your hand away and I stab you with it, then yes it is going to hurt."

"Yer not pissed at us, are ya?" Connor asked scrapping what was left of the eggplant into the garbage can.

"I'm not happy but I'm not pissed. As long as neither of you are seriously injured and can still do your respective jobs both legal and illegal then I guess all is forgiven. Just please don't try to cook meals in my kitchen again without me. By all means you can explode your own kitchen but no more cooking in mine."

"She knows what we do?" I heard Murphy hiss under his breath, using the pots and pans to try and cover up the anger in his voice.

"If by 'what we do' you mean I know you're the Saints, than yes I know what you do. Don't worry though I'm not going to say anything. I actually support what you do; I was actually telling Connor last night that I don't mind fixing you guys up as long as you stop cauterizing yourselves with irons."

"Den I guess it's safe ta tell ya dat Roc's got a job fer us ta do tonight. It's anot'er one of Papa Joe's guys and he's been doing surveillance on him fer da past couple of weeks." Murphy sighed, turning the water on to fill the sink and dishes.

"Normally if you guys were going out I'd tell you to have fun and be careful but I'm going to have to change that to just be careful. If you're going to be staying at Roc's just call me and let me know you're alright. I'm not trying to sound like your mother or anything but I do worry and I do care about you. By the way, if you see Roc let him know I need to have a word with him."

I got up from the couch and quietly went to the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I was in need of another bath and needed some time to myself to wrap my head around the fact that I was about to watch them walk out of my front door each with a pair of guns strapped to their sides not knowing whether or not they would make it back in one piece or alive at all. Part of this felt like I was living in Utah all over again when my ex would tell me he was going out and would stay gone for days at a time.

"Why'd ya fucking tell her who we are? What da fuck were ya t'inking?"

"If ya wanna be pissed at anyone, ya can be pissed at Roc; he told her first and den I confirmed it fer her after he left. She needed ta know da truth about what it is we do when we're not hanging out with her or at da bar with da rest of da guys. She knew we were hiding somet'ing from her, I could see it in her eyes, and it was only a matter of time before she found out on her own. She told me last night dat when she was living in Utah she killed someone -"

"Smecker said she was innocent and that all the charges were dropped."

"Dis was before all of dat. She went inta some pretty gruesome detail about da guy she killed and quite honestly it scared me ta even t'ink of her dat way."

"Do I even wanna know what she did?"

"It makes what we do seem humane. Da guy went inta da bedroom while she was sleeping; she shot him point blank in da pitch dark. When she turned da light on, he had a bullet in his head and bleeding out all over da floor. She called her ex and told him what happened; by da time he got home she already had him rolled up in a tarp ready ta go. But dat's not da worse part; she pulled his teeth out, cut his fingers off, carved out his tattoos, and even ripped his eyes out of his skull."

"Ya t'ink she's a danger ta us?"

"Honestly, I don't know but we'll have ta keep an eye on her. She seems pretty docile right now, granted she's prone ta outbursts fer da next five days but all of da ot'er times we've seen her she seems okay by me. I t'ink dat if somet'ing provokes her den we may have cause fer concern. Da only reason I'm saying somet'ing ta ya now is because I want ya ta be on yer guard at all times but be discreet about it. I t'ink she could be a great asset ta us as long as she can keep herself in check. She murdered dat guy because he tried ta rape her; she stood up fer herself and did what she felt was necessary ta make sure she was never a victim again and dat dey could never hurt anot'er innocent person."

"Are ya telling me dat she's voluntarily putting herself in harm's way ta make sure we stay in one piece?"

"Dat's what she told me last night. T'ink about it, if she's studying forensics she knows how we can improve our clean-up techniques so we're not leaving as much evidence behind; she knows anatomy and can put us back together; she's got a medicine cabinet filled with prescription pain killers dat could take da edge off after she's done patching us up. We can't keep using an iron ta fix ourselves and if she's volunteering her services den I say we take her up on da offer but we have ta keep an eye on her ta make sure she doesn't do anyt'ing stupid ta either get herself caught or us dead. It was yer idea ta bring Roc in; it's my idea ta bring her in."

"Ya better be right about dis one ot'erwise if she gets hurt because of us, I will never forgive ya fer as long as I live. Help me get dis fucking mess cleaned up."

The two worked silently scraping different foods into the garbage and placing the dishes into the sink that Murphy had filled with soapy water. As the pair worked silently they could hear the faint sound of the lift making its way along the track, glancing at the clock on her stove Murphy saw that it was their usual dinner time and remembering that she had invited Roc over the night before he was hopeful that it was in fact Roc. He had a bone to pick with him and he was more than certain that if he chose to do it in her apartment he'd make an even bigger mess inside of the place; with her emotions running high and her temper unpredictable it was best to try and stay on her good side for the next few days.

However, that didn't mean that Roc was off the hook; he was far from it. Murphy had made it very clear to both his brother and Rocco that he wanted to keep her out of what they did. He remembered the skepticism she had displayed at the bar a few nights after Rocco had lost his finger in the gun fight they had with an old man. How could anyone make up a story about how they lost their finger? Had it been himself or Connor, it could've been labelled as work-related but Roc had tried saying he cut it off with a knife. The look she had on her face all but said she wasn't buying it; she had dropped the subject after a bit, still not buying into what they had been trying to tell her.

Murphy had the door pulled open, rushing out before Rocco was even aware of what was happening. He had him pinned against the wall across the hallway, his hands grasping the sides of his coat using it as leverage to keep him where he was.

"Da fuck were ya t'inking telling her who we are and what we do? Ya fucking retard, I told ya I didn't want her involved in any of dis. Don't ya dare stand dere and tell me dat it just slipped."

Connor watched his brother push Rocco further against the wall, thumping his head against the plaster a few times as he punctuated certain words. He'd seen his brother get angry over things Roc had done in the past but this was even surpassing the day after they took out the Russians in the Copley when they had been trying to get him to understand that his boss had sold him out. Ensuring that the door was shut behind him, he stood in the door frame ready to break their fight up if things started getting out of hand.

"Hey man, just calm the fuck down, alright? I know you wanted to keep her out of this Saints business but it was something she needed-"

"She didn't _need_ ta know anyt'ing! Ya could've made up somet'ing up real fucking quick if ya were gonna tell her anyt'ing about why we act da way we do. What da fuck did ya tell her, Roc? How much does she know? Swear ta fucking Christ if ya say one untrue word I'll shoot yer ot'er fucking pinky off meself."

"Do you want me to advertise what it is we do out here or would you rather go back inside?"

Momentarily confused, Murphy looked around a bit before coming to the realization that they were still out in the hallway. Shoving Roc against the wall for a final time, he released the lapels of his coat and huffed his way back into her apartment with Connor and Rocco in tow, slamming her front door shut when everyone was inside.

"Hey! Don't slam my fucking doors!"

Opening the bathroom door, Murphy muttered a quick apology before gently shutting the door again and refocusing his attention on Rocco who sat at her kitchen table with a beer in hand, leaning back in his chair and preparing for the onslaught he was about to receive.

"The fuck is her problem? Wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something?"

"Shut yer fucking mouth! Ya don't get ta say a fucking word about her or against her, understand? How much does she know about what we do?"

"With da exception of a few hits, I pretty much told her everyt'ing. Before ya go and start wailing on me next ya should know dat she's okay with what it is we do; supports it actually and if we'd let her she'd pull da trigger herself." Connor had interjected, watching as Murphy's wild eyes turned on him.

"Look Murph, the only reason I even said anything to her about last night was because Connor was acting like a dick; hey man, you were. I call it as I see it. I told her that you start acting like a dick when you get real worked up over something or someone you're trying to protect. You both are trying to protect her from my boss and she told me as much last night that she appreciates it but she's more than capable of taking care of herself. She even said that if it came down to it and she wound up getting taken when we weren't looking that she could take a beating. I didn't say much beyond that, wasn't really my place to say; we mostly just drank and shot the shit for a few hours before Connor came over. Told her about how Donna's cat died and she looked mortified when I told her it looked like someone threw a jar of marinara against the wall and how we tried to cover it with a fucking picture taped to the wall."

Rocco's answer seemed to satisfy him for the moment, returning his attention to his brother though Murphy silently screamed at Connor for even confirming what Roc had said about them. An angry snort escaped through his nostrils as he stormed out of the kitchen, making a beeline for the fire escape. Murphy needed to get out of there before he did something he'd regret later or incur her wrath even further. She was already pretty high strung and gave him a pretty firm warning when he apologized for slamming her door shut.

Fishing the cigarette from behind his ear and the lighter from the pocket of his jeans, he sat on the stairs trying to calm himself down. Inside the apartment he could hear Connor and Rocco going at it, her windows were single-paned and over their voices he could pick hers out telling them all to shut the hell up. He knew she was already stressed out with whatever she was dealing with and the bath was supposed to be helping her to relax; the three of them arguing was counteracting all of that.

After a few minutes he found that his cigarette was down to the filter and realizing he had left his pack at their place, Murphy chose to go back inside hoping that cooler heads would prevail. The shouting between the others had died down enough that she wasn't screaming at anyone any more. In fact, he heard the bathroom door hit the wall and watched from the window as she stormed out in nothing but a robe and physically separate the two of them. He laughed to himself watching her put them in the corner at opposite ends of the room like they were children. Much to her credit, they were acting like kids and it was probably the only thing she could do before she completely lost her shit and started ripping body parts off.

"Can ya ask her if we can come out of da corner now? I really need ta take a piss."

Murphy watched as Connor turned his head slightly, his nose pressed into the wall and his face full of regret. However his body was betraying him as he bounced on his feet trying to keep the urge at bay.

"Connor needs ta piss, can he come in?"

"Yeah, I guess. Tell Roc he can come out of the corner too; I swear if any of you so much as raise your voices above a normal indoor voice all three of you are going in the corner. You did good though by walking away, I know it must've been a hard thing for you to do."

He nodded, backing out of the door before she stopped him one last time.

"Murphy, I get why you don't want me involved but this is my choice. You can't protect everyone from the evils of this world; none of you can. All of you are bound to get hurt, I mean shit the three of you have already been shot at least once and you used a fucking iron to cauterize yourselves. My involvement in this is strictly for the purpose of putting the three of you back together to the best of my abilities. At the very least let me do that for you, I don't like to see any of you getting hurt and if there's anything I can do then I will. Look at this way, if you let me do this you won't be marring yourselves anymore and causing yourselves more pain than you're already in."

"Still don't like it, but it's yer choice and I can't stop ya from doing somet'ing ya wanna do."

"Let Connor know he's okay to come in, I think the longer he's in that corner the more he's gonna start dancing trying to hold it. Let me know when you get ready to leave, alright?"

Murphy nodded at her request before closing the door slightly to allow a bit of privacy before letting his brother and Rocco know that their punishment has ended. Connor flew by in a flash without so much as an afterthought, but Rocco turned slowly from his corner of the room waiting nervously to see if she would make another appearance. Once he came to the conclusion that the coast was clear, he stepped away from the wall, walking into the kitchen to pull another beer from her fridge.

"Look Murph, I never intended for her to be brought in on this shit storm. It's just that it seemed to me that she was searching for a reason why Connor was so fucking pissed last night. You know how he gets when he's scared and I told her that when he found out my boss wanted her brought in that Connor just flipped the fuck out. Papa Joe knows that her charges were dropped and he's got virtually everyone out looking for her to take us out. She's involved now because of my boss and I thought it was best to let her know who she'd be assigned to wipe out if it came down to her getting captured. I thought it was best she knew that we were the good guys in all of this."

Murphy nodded but said nothing, he was still fuming but knowing that Roc's intentions were in the right place lessened his anger but only by a few degrees. However Roc did have a valid point: she was involved whether it was by design or choice and there was no stopping a mob boss who was hell-bent on exterminating them.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

A gentle rapping on the bathroom door jolted me awake; the effects of the Tramadol must still be in my system because I did not remember falling asleep in the bathtub surrounded by the hot water that seemed to seep into my pores and lull me back into a peaceful, relaxing slumber. I told whoever was on the other side of the door to come in and pulled back the plastic shower curtain to find out who woke me up.

"We're leaving now; we got da kitchen cleaned up and da dishwasher running. Even got da food off da ceiling so ya don't have ta worry about it. When it warms up later we'll re-paint da walls and cover up dose red stains. I really am sorry for da mess I made."

"I know you are; it was an accident and accidents are bound to happen," I started, pulling myself to my feet and reaching towards the end of the tub to pull the stopper up. Murphy handed me my towel and helped me out of the tub. "How are those blisters on your hands doing? Need me to take a look at them before you leave?"

"Not gonna lie but dey hurt like hell; it can wait t'ough until we get back. Should be back in an hour so, according ta what Roc's been able ta get and it's just one guy. Should be an easy in and out hit as long as Connor's plan didn't get inspired from anot'er one of his stupid fucking movies."

"Just be careful and come back in one piece. Do me one favor though while you're out there: no matter how crazy Connor's plan is to get the job done please for the love of God do not hit your head. All of the progress you made can come undone and I do not want that to happen."

Reaching for the knob on the bathroom door, Murphy wrapped his fingers gently around my wrist and pressed his other hand on the door to keep it shut for a moment longer. Tension filled the air as I waited for him to make a move. I could only hazard a guess that he wanted a kiss or something that would be of significant meaning to him should tonight be the end for him. Visibly though, it felt like time had stood still just for the two of us as I raised my eyes to meet his. He carefully brought his hands up to lace his fingers through my hair and brought my face up to meet his; his lips had barely just grazed mine when I was startled out of the moment.

"Fucking hurry up in dere, Roc's outside waiting fer us. Ya can pound her t'rough da walls when we get back."

"You have such bad timing, you know that Connor? Just go outside and he'll meet you out there, alright?"

I heard him grumble something under his breath but couldn't make it out. My attention was brought back to Murphy as he started pulling the door opened just as Connor shut the front door. I managed to grab the sleeve of his pea coat before he exited the room and pulled him back to finish that kiss that he started. If I was going to be sending him out there to kill the people who do bad things to good people, then I wanted him to have something to look forward to coming back to. He pressed me back against the frame of the door and slid his hands around the back of my neck, his thumbs sweeping over the sides of my face. His lips brushed against mine, his tongue gently probing, asking for entrance. I opened my mouth to him, allowing his tongue to sweep over mine; this kiss was definitely something different than what I was used to, very similar to the last time he had sex. He was taking his time with me and I could feel the walls around my heart shake and crumble away. I pulled back before I started over-thinking the situation and the possible hidden meanings that lay under the surface. Thoughts like these would cause me to harden my heart all over again and I really didn't want that to happen.

"Go on, Connor and Rocco are waiting on you. All of you be safe tonight and try to come back in one piece. One of you call me when you're done and let me know the damage report so I can make sure I have everything I need. We'll talk about how much I know when you get back. Neither Connor or I intended on you finding out this way. Don't be so hard on Roc either, he was only doing what he thought was necessary."

He nodded and walked out the door without looking back. A heavy, deep sigh escaped my lungs as I stared at the door immersed in the smells that were unique to Murphy. My shoulders sagged and my heart was breaking a little bit knowing what was about go down in the next couple of hours. I refused to watch the news when the story broke to keep from going insane with unanswered questions on my mind. Turning my head, my neck popped and I decided I had better get dressed before I bled out on the floor. Tonight was going to be a long night but at least I had alcohol, ice cream, and _The Terminator_ to get me through it.

* * *

"And Shepherds we shall be, for Thee, my Lord, for Thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand that our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command. So we shall flow a forth to Thee and teeming with souls shall it ever be. I Nomeni Patri Et Filí Spiritus Sancti."

"That was way easier than I thought it'd be, you guys really got to teach me that prayer, that's some good shit."

"It's a family prayer Roc, our father's father before him so dat's our shit. Just get da fucking guns, we've gotta get out of here before Smecker shows up. Ya alright, Connor? Ya look like ya've seen a ghost or somet'ing."

"I'm fucking fine; let's just-"

"Fucking liar, ya got hit didn't ya? Fucking hold still, will ya?"

The two fought for a few seconds before Murphy had his brother pinned against the wall with his forearm pinned against his throat, reaching to pull the flattening wet shirt up over his stomach.

"She's gonna fucking kill ya when we get back. Roc, call Red and let her know we got a bleeder."

"It's not dat fucking bad we'll just go ta Roc's and heat da iron up again."

" _You_ told her dat we would stop using da iron ta cauterize ourselves; we agreed no hospitals because dey'd ask too many questions and da last t'ing we need is da cops snooping around and figuring it out dat it's been us all along doing dis. Suck yer pride up and get back ta da car. Roc, did ya call her yet?"

"Yeah, she's getting everything prepped; said it should be good to go by the time we get back. I left out the fact that it was Connor just in case you're trying to hide something from her. I wouldn't put it past her to ask for a stripped down, full-body search just to make sure you didn't get hit either."

* * *

Once I got off the phone with Rocco I took a deep breath to help prepare myself for my first patch job. He wouldn't tell me who it was and he wouldn't let on to what happened so I figured I'd take the safe route and take out everything I owned and go from there. Among the few possessions I took with me from Utah, I grabbed all of the surgical equipment that my ex kept in both the house and the caves. These hadn't been used since the day before he died so my first step was to get a pot of boiling water going and drop every instrument I had in there and just let it boil until they got here.

Being an archaeologist, I always kept a first aid kit at home and a small one in the car because you never knew when something would happen. The at home kit was pretty much a large tackle box filled with everything I would need to take care of minor to moderate injuries. Hopefully these incoming injuries did not require surgery of some kind otherwise we're all screwed.

"Red, where are ya? We got a bleeder!" Murphy's voice broke the silence of the apartment about a half an hour later and he soon emerged with Connor clinging to his torso holding onto his left side, just under his ribs. The skin on his gloved wrist was stained red and he was gritting his teeth to keep from lashing out at his brother.

"Lay him down on the floor, Roc hand me those scissors on the counter. Murphy, at the bottom of the first aid kit is a bit; could you grab it for me?"

Rocco placed the blade of the scissors in my right hand as Murphy came back with the first aid kit and the bit. I grabbed the hem of his shirt and started cutting away at it while the other two held him down for me; one had his wrists, the other had his feet. The only way I could work comfortably in this was to sit on top of him. The more weight he had bearing down on him, the less likely he'd be able to rear back and pull away. I cut the shirt straight up the middle, pulling back the fabric to get a good look around. His chest was completely covered from where the blood had smeared and it was becoming difficult to find the entry wound. If I wanted to be a complete bitch I would've poured half a bottle of rubbing alcohol on his chest to clean and disinfect the area but I was feeling sympathetic tonight and grabbed the largest bottle of peroxide that the kit could hold.

"This is gonna hurt." I warned him, holding the bit out for him to bite down on. He willing accepted it and nodded his head when he was ready. The scream that filtered through the bit made me feel terrible for pouring the ice cold liquid all over his chest but it was something that had to be done. Once he calmed down enough to allow the peroxide to work, I had Rocco release his ankles and get me the towels I had laying out on the table. I waited a few minutes, watching the bubbles disappear before wiping him down. His chest was clear for the most part which was a good thing in my opinion until I found the hole. Panic took up residence in my heart as I did my best to keep my poker face.

"Just lay there and do not move, I'll be right back. Murphy, if you want to take that out of his mouth and let him breathe for a couple of minutes you can."

"Ya fucking bitch! Dat shit fucking hurts, are ya out of yer damn mind?"

I should've told Murphy to leave that in his mouth.

"I must be if I'm patching you up. You ought to be a lot nicer to the woman who's about to go digging around for a bullet in your chest. You best be right with your Jesus boy and pray that it didn't hit anything major otherwise I can't help you and we're going to have to make-up a damn good story to tell the hospital about that gunshot while you're in surgery."

"No hospitals Red, dat's why we're here."

I grabbed the boiling pot of water off the stove and its contents, throwing a couple of towels down on the floor so the bottom of the pot wouldn't burn the cheap linoleum. Once I seated myself back on top of Connor, I dug through my box until I found the box of gloves; taking a pair out and putting them on, I reached into the pot of water and pulled out a couple of pairs of clamps and the scalpel. Murphy put the bit back in his mouth at the sight of the blade and tucked his head down to his brother's ear in an effort to keep him calm. Poor Connor was going to be in for a long night of meatball surgery without any painkillers or numbing agents.

"Whatever you do, try not to move around so much. I'm going to have to open this up just a little bit and go in there to feel around for the bullet. This is going to hurt and I promise I'll try to be quick about it, okay? Best case scenario, I can feel it with my finger and I can get it out with the forceps granted that there's no major damage. Worst case scenario is that we take you to the E.R. and tell them you got shot while leaving the bar and you came here to see if I could get it out since I was close by. I'm sure Doc and the rest of the boys would go along with that story if it came down to it."

His reply was a muffled 'do it' as he closed his eyes against the forth coming pain I was about to inflict upon him. At this point I was hoping for the best case scenario. Moving the point of the scalpel to the hole, I made a two inch incision going down his chest and another similar incision going up his chest. Opening up the clamps, as gently as I could, I used them to force the skin back to allow me a better view inside his chest cavity. It was not a pretty sight to begin with but at least the bleeding had slowed; a good thing which told me that his body was reacting the way it should when it was injured. It was more for Murphy and Rocco that I told them what I was doing every step of the way to avoid having to answer their questions about why Connor was reacting when I did certain things.

Once his chest was opened up enough, I grabbed the flashlight out of the kit, switching it on to see if I could find a hint of the brass reflecting against the light. The closer it was to the surface, the better off Connor would be in the end. Unfortunately though, there was no sign of the bullet and I was going to have to probe around for it. I started forcing my index finger into the gaping wound, hearing the hiss escape past the bit. His eyes were shut tight and he was forcing back the tears; I personally would've thought that this would be a walk in the park for him compared to singeing it closed with an iron.

"Ya've gotta stop, yer hurting him even worse; maybe we should-"

"I found it! Rocco, put a glove on and hand me that pair of extra-long forceps."

"The extra-long what?"

"Forceps, they look like a pair of skinny pliers with a hole at the end. I need those now before I lose this bullet." The tip of my middle finger was barely on top of the bullet and I was losing it quickly with each breath that Connor took. This would be my only chance before it literally slipped through my fingers.

Rocco handed them over and I was able to wrap the opening of the instrument around the bullet just before I lost it completely. Had Connor taken a few extra breaths, I probably would have lost it and we'd be on our way to the hospital. Murphy, being the impatient one right now, kept steadily raising his voice at me to hurry up. If I tried doing things using his tactics then Connor would be needing a pine box instead of a nurse. I had to be careful extracting the object since I didn't know what kind of condition it would be in; there was no way of telling whether or not it fragmented upon impact or if it stayed whole.

My hand was shaking the entire time of the extraction but once it was out, Connor started to relax significantly and I could feel his body release the tension it was holding throughout this ordeal. Murphy held his hand out, silently asking to see what I pulled out of his brother's chest. While he was examining the culprit, I leaned over to dip a dry washcloth in the sterile water then wrung it out. Connor's breathing was labored and he had lost quite a bit of blood and most of his complexion; he actually looked quite a bit like what I did earlier today after breakfast. Leaning forward, I swiped the rag over his face to wipe away some of the sweat that stared seeping out of his pores. I wanted him to relax as much as possible before I started dressing the wound up and getting him on some pretty powerful painkillers.

While they were out, I took the liberty of going back up to their place and found the prescriptions that the doctors had given to him to take for his leg. I know they say you shouldn't keep any kind of medication for longer than the expiration date printed on the bottle, however the one Connor received as a result of his sky-diving off the roof last year was only expired by a few months. I don't think it'll make that much of a difference in the effectiveness as long as it still does the job.

"Thank you."

His smile was weak but no less heartfelt. What exactly he was thanking me for though, I didn't fully understand since I would've done the same thing for the other two had it been them. There were questions I wanted to ask, but I needed to get this closed up before it has the chance to get infected.

"You have two options: I can either sew this closed for you or you can leave it open and let it heal on its own. You will have to wear bandages either way until its healed and they will have to be changed a couple of times a day. Pick your poison."

"Which would ya pick?"

"Personally, I'd leave it open and just change the bandages every couple of hours; I can't stand the idea of something pulling my skin closed while I'm awake. But if you do choose to leave it open I'm going to have to wash it out every time I change the bandages."

I dipped another rag into the sterile water, wringing it out again and going over his chest cleaning more of the blood off. Honestly, the hole wasn't that big maybe an inch or so in diameter, not including where I had to cut him open. As long as he didn't try to pick at the scabs when it started healing it'd be fine.

"What would you use ta wash it out with? Not gonna pour more of that freezing cold peroxide on him, are you?" Rocco asked, getting up off the floor.

"Depends on how badly he pisses me off; if he behaves himself I'll just boil a pot of water and use that. If he decides to be a prick I'll opt for the peroxide, the rubbing alcohol, or the betadine. If I stich it closed then all he has to do is wear a bandage over it and get that changed a couple of times a day."

"Just leave da fucking t'ing open. I'm in enough pain as it is and a needle going t'rough me will just make me feel even worse. Just fucking hurry up already so I can get up off da floor."

"Don't get grouchy, it's your own damn fault that you ended up like this in the first place," I told him grabbing the box of large gauze pads and the medical tape out of the box, "what you really need is a drainage tube put in but they don't exactly sell those at the pharmacy. Was this the only place you got hit at or do I need to strip search you?"

"That was the only place, but you may need to strip search Murph just to be sure he isn't lying his ass off." Rocco answered.

My eyes shot upward towards Murphy to find him frantically shaking his head at Rocco to try and keep him from opening his mouth any further. I turned around to look behind to see Roc's mouth forming to make words but nothing was coming out.

"Roc, exactly what happened tonight on this hit? If you lie to me, I will not hesitate to torture you in the most unimaginable ways possible and there will be nothing that either of these two will be able to do to stop me. Do you understand me?"

"We pulled up to the place where we were supposed to do the hit; we got there, got out of the car and busted the door down. Someone inside of Papa Joe's inner most circle must've talked because the second that door came down he was there waiting for us with his gun at the ready. Connor went in first and that was when he got hit. Murph and I jumped him before he could get another round off; I got the gun away from him and that was when those two dropped him to his knees and took him out. I swear on my mother's grave I don't know anything about Murph getting hit. I was just joking with them that you would probably order a strip search if it came down to it. I'm going out for a bit, but I'll be back with pizza and beer; you want anything while I'm out?"

"If you're going out for pizza, could you get me a medium with extra sausage? I can pay you for it when you get back."

Murphy had released Connor's wrists while Rocco was telling me what happened tonight; I knew he was leaving out most of the details and only hitting on the main points but it was good to know that I didn't have to strip search Murphy to find out the truth for myself. I wasn't lying either when I told them that I would torture Rocco to get down to the truth; I never implied that I would cause him bodily harm though. Nails on a chalkboard works just as well as physical pain.

I got up off Connor, leaving him to lie in the middle of my kitchen floor still wearing his blood-soaked black t-shirt. It really was a good color on him; it brought out the blue in his eyes and I couldn't help but get lost in them every time he wore it. Picking the pot up off the floor, I walked it back to the stove, replacing it on the back burner and covering it with the lid to keep the remaining instruments in there as clean as possible. Walking to the trashcan, I pulled the bloody latex gloves off using one to cover the other to keep the blood spatter at a minimum. Finally, I went back to my box of supplies and started putting everything back in order; my back was to Connor as I was busy putting stuff away when I felt one of his fingers poking into my ass.

"What?"

Silence as he started pressing two fingers against the cheek again.

"What do you want?"

Again I got the silent treatment as he continued to poke me, adding a third digit.

"What the fuck do you want?" I practically screamed at him, dropping what I was doing to swing around and face him.

"I want drugs, I hurt."

"You're going to wait until I'm done. Five more minutes is not going to kill you and it will not cause the world to stop moving. Murphy, could you give your brother a hand up while I get this put away?"

I didn't wait for him to answer before getting up, carrying the box of supplies with me back into the bathroom. Tonight was going to be a long night and I could not wait for Rocco to get back with the pizza. Replacing the box under the sink, shutting the cabinet door, I pulled open the door to the medicine cabinet to root around for something that would be just strong enough to take the edge off the pain that Connor was feeling, but also for something that would knock him out for the night. If he was hungry, he could stay up long enough for a slice of pizza and then it was off to bed with him; painkillers and alcohol do not mix especially when he has lost that much blood. Of the pill bottles that I had grabbed out of their apartment, one of them contained some Oxycodone and had his name on it the label. While Connor was telling me stories last night about some of the hits they've done as the Saints, one of them included the precursor that started it all. He told me about the bar fight they gotten into on St. Patrick's Day last year, the Russians who were threatening Doc. I had seen the remnants of the scars on his wrists and didn't doubt the truth of what happened. The doctors had given him a prescription for the Oxycodone for the pain if he felt like he needed it.

The count on the bottle said 30 and in fact all 30 were still in the bottle. I guess growing up with a brother like Murphy he had gotten so used to getting his ass kicked for one reason or another that he felt like he didn't need pills. One of these would do just fine until the real pain set in tomorrow morning.

By the time I had gotten back from the bathroom carrying the pain pill, Connor was already laying across the couch with his shirt off watching what was left of _The Terminator_. It had just gotten to the part of the movie when Kyle and Sarah were running through the factory trying to hide when Sarah accidentally engages the start button for one of the machines, giving away their positions.

"Ya've got good tastes in movies, ya know dat? Never would've pegged ya for an action movie type woman after watching ya balling yer eyes out over dat bald-headed Albino with superpowers."

I handed the pill over and took up residence on the floor using the cushions on the couch as a back support, stretching my legs out and crossing them at the ankles. When Rocco had called me, I had just finished a bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream with chocolate magic shell dripping off it, mixed with a little bit of whiskey. It was nothing short of a food-gasm as the chocolatey goodness exploded in my mouth; kind of makes me want another one right now but I also really wanted a sausage pizza. By the time the movie was over, Connor was out like a light and I could smell the pizza wafting through the hallways as I listened carefully to the sound of the rickety elevator make its accent to the third floor. I was practically running for the door before the elevator stopped.

"How da fuck did ya know Roc was back with da pizza? He was still on da lift for Christ's sake."

"Fuck you I know shit. Besides I'm fucking starving. Keep it down though, your brother needs to rest."

I grabbed my pizza off the top of the stack of things Rocco was holding and walked back to the apartment. Rocco followed in second place as Murphy brought up the rear carrying the six pack of beer under his arm. Sitting back down on the floor, I flipped the lid of my pizza box open, holding my head over the steaming pie and inhaled deeply. Harvesting the first slice, I started picking the individual pieces of sausage off eating them one by one before I started picking the cheese off and finally digging into the semi-naked piece of baked dough.

"You are fucking weird, you know that? In all my life I have never seen someone dissect their pizza and eat it bit by bit. You were not doing that with the pizza you made so what gives?" Rocco was staring at me with his mouth slightly gaping and confusion plastered on his face.

"I can't help it, I've been doing this since I was a kid and I do it with other foods too especially sandwiches. But it's only with certain foods that I do it with; if it's a pizza that I make I'll eat it whole but if it's a pizza like this I have to dissect it. I'll eat a turkey and Swiss sandwich whole but if I make a Ruben I have to dissect it. Kind of along that same vein though, I cannot make a plate of food and go back and forth from one thing to another. When these guys were over for Thanksgiving, I made the whole nine yards but I could only eat one thing at a time. I had to eat all of the sweet potatoes before I moved on to something else. It's like a bad case of OCD with food."

Murphy was busy poking around my movie collection to find something else to watch when he started squawking in one of the most disturbing, un-manly tones I have ever heard in my life. He turned around holding the movie out in front of him like a child asking their parent for permission. I couldn't make the writing out on the cover and motioned for him to bring it over to me. He handed it over, hopeful that I would approve of his choice of movie and that I'd let him watch it.

"It came out when we were about a year old but by da time we were teenagers we started watching movies dat Ma would never let us normally watch. She caught us watching it on Halloween night when we were 15 and banned us from ever watching it again. She called all of our friends and made sure dat dere parents never let us watch it and den we got a talking too by da Father when we went to church dat Sunday."

"I don't care if you watch it, as long as it doesn't give you bad dreams and make you wet the bed. I wouldn't own _The Exorcist_ if I didn't enjoy watching it. But I will tell you this, I am not going anywhere near that house for as long as I live. I would rather die before stepping a foot near that house."

"You mean that shit actually happened? I thought it was just a story made into a movie."

"Roc, I grew up a couple of towns over, my parent's house can't be more than a 20 minute drive down the highway from where the Exorcist House is. Anybody in their right mind knows not to go near that house. The priests may have been able to exorcise those demons from that boy but they never left that house. Only thrill seekers and tourists with a death wish will go to that house and go inside."

Murphy quickly grabbed the video from my hand and took the previous movie out of the VCR, replacing it with the movie he was extremely excited to see. Rather than screwing around with the remote, he used the controls on the panel to fast-forward through the commercials to the opening credits of the movie.

"What exactly went on in that house?"

"No one really knows except those that were there. Just about every story out there says that the boy and his grandma were playing with an Ouija board and they opened up Pandora's Box so to speak. One thing led to another and the family ended up moving to St. Louis; the family got in contact with the archdiocese and they sent a couple of priests over. They did an exorcism and the family got the hell out of Dodge when it was over. It happened 50 years ago so you know stories change all the time; kind of like when you play Operator as a kid. You say one thing and by the time it comes back around its completely different than what was originally said."

We sat in a comfortable silence watching the movie and chowing down on pizza and beer until the movie was over. Rocco had fallen asleep on the loveseat and Murphy had fallen asleep on my lap. Connor was still knocked out from the effects of the Oxycodone that he had taken and here I was wide awake and needing very badly to get up and pee. I tried shifting around Murphy's big head so I didn't wake him but as the urgency grew so did my desperation. At the last minute, I finally whipped my legs out from under his head and made the mad dash to the bathroom just in time to hear his head bounce off the floor and his voice waking just about everyone in the apartment.

"Dat wasn't very nice, ya know. I could've gotten hurt pretty bad."

"I'm sorry but I had to pee and you didn't want to wake up when I was asking nicely. I'm going to bed for the night. I'll see everyone in the morning; if Connor wakes up anytime during the night, just come get me unless you think you can handle it."

Picking up my empty pizza box off the floor, I walked it into the kitchen and set it down on the counter, I could take it out in the morning or have one of the guys do it if they were heading out. Digging the phone out my pocket, I saw that it was reading 3:47 a.m. Yawning, I put the phone back in my pocket and padded towards the bedroom, opening and shutting the door behind me. I needed a little time to myself to decompress after everything that happened tonight and solitude seemed to be the best thing for me right now. After everything with Connor being shot to taking my first bullet out, was I really ready to be thrown into the role of being their personal nurse? What would happen if I couldn't fix them? Why were the thoughts of this old man still plaguing my mind?

I was distracted from my thoughts as I heard the bedroom door creak open and a hand appear in the doorway. Murphy had his brother draped over his shoulders much like he had earlier this evening and he was mumbling incoherently. Even I couldn't make what he was saying or what language he was saying it in. I got off the bed and went to Connor's other side, slinging his right arm over my shoulders and hoisting him up by the waist. We got him to the bed with very little trouble and slid him over to the side closest to the wall that way he wouldn't fall out during the night.

"Do you want to stay in here tonight or keep Roc company?"

"Would we all three fit in da bed?"

"I usually sleep on my side so we should all three be able to sleep comfortably if that's what you're worried about."

"Da t'ree of us still need ta talk."

"I know, I wasn't counting on home surgery to spoil those plans. I think we can put it off though until your brother's feeling a bit better."

Murphy climbed in after switching the fan on and I drifted off into a semi-peaceful sleep in between the nightmares. I was on my right side with Murphy's arm slung over my middle and my head was resting on Connor's chest, trying to be mindful of the open hole there, trying to fall back asleep after another nightmare left me drenched in sweat and tears when I heard Connor's voice in my ear bringing my tired eyes up to meet his face.

"Anot'er nightmare?"

"It was different than all of the other ones I've ever had. It had that old man you were telling me about that met you guys outside after that one hit you did; that one where Rocco lost his pinky. Something is just really off and I don't know what it is or what it means. I know I already booked my flight to Utah for June but I'm really starting to second guess whether or not I should go and just put it off until after that month is over"

"We'll help ya figure it out but fer now go back ta sleep. I won't be going anywhere fer a while so ya can sleep comfortably da rest of da night."

"How ya holding up? Need another pill to pop or do you think you're good for now?"

"May not hurt ta get anot'er."

"Stay here and I'll get the bottle," I paused trying to throw the blankets off, "think you can help me up? Murph doesn't seem to wanna let me go."

"I can-"

"You are not getting out of this bed, mister. You've already lost too much blood and right now you need to rest. Just move your brother's arm and shove my pillow against him, he'll latch onto it like damn octopus. Your Ma ought to change his name from Murphy to Clingy."

Connor chuckled a bit but agreed to help me out of the bed. Upon throwing the blankets back, I had discovered that my predicament had become just a little more complicated than was previously thought. Somehow, Murphy had me trapped between his arms and legs, pulling me impossibly closer into his chest as his soft snores were interrupted with a grunt. One hand disappeared momentarily, searching blindly in the night to pull the blankets back over.

"I'll be right back with da bottle, promise I won't take any until I come back in."

Connor pressed a quick to my cheek before carefully climbing out of the bed, using extra precaution as he stood to his full height, clinging to his side. Even though his back was to me I could see that he was in pain and getting up was something his body was heavily protesting.

He returned a few minutes later with a bottle in hand, heavily favoring his side as he shut the bedroom door. Once he climbed back into the bed he helped to free one of my deeply hidden arms from the recesses of Murphy's body so I could unscrew the cap and place a pill in his outstretched hand.

"I know ya wanna ask, but what Roc told ya was da truth."

"I know, just try to be a little more careful next time. Don't go in there blindly with guns blazing; next time you may not be so lucky.

Resting my head back against his chest once the blankets were readjusted over our forms, I lay away a little longer just thinking about what I signed on for. I knew what to expect, but I was not expecting to have to perform my newly assigned duties on the first day.

"Go ta sleep, no sense in dwelling on what happened. I'm alive, I'm breathing."

I nodded against his chest and tucked my head back down listening to his heart beat out a steady rhythm that drew me back into slumber. The premonitions that these dreams from earlier were causing me were nothing short of fearful as the last one that ripped me from my sleep was nothing more than a voice deep, low, and powerful booming out incomprehensible instructions.

Maybe I should start taking my anti-psychotics again after this.

 _Hi everyone! Hope you all had a good weekend because I sure as hell did. I apologize that this chapter is significantly shorter than the last couple, however being out in that sun all weekend fried my brain and trying to write drunk is not exactly a wise idea. I know you're all probably sick and tired of me repeating it but we're coming down to the final three (yes, 3) chapters of this story so if you want a continuation, now is the time to let me know. I also started work on my first TWD story called_ Decisions, decisions _if you want something a little different_. _As always, comments/reviews welcome and please PM with any suggestions you may have._


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

And so this is the way that it went for the next couple of weeks; the three of them would go out, do their hits based around Rocco's intel, and come back to my place for patch work. Murphy also went back to work at the plant much to Connor's relief since he has been running on fumes taking on two shifts to make back the money that Murphy's downtime was costing them. After beginning my third week of this routine, the trio made the executive decision to go after Papa Joe in the comfort of his own home.

They came in, after having already gone to confession, and had already informed Smecker who made it very clear that he didn't like it but nonetheless told them to be careful. They had not bothered to tell me until they were heading out the door. My stomach fell and my temper rose as I did my best to talk them out of it. It was a suicide mission and one or all of them were going to end up dead. I stood in the crowded hall watching the twins shoulder their holsters and putting their coats on over. Rocco stood at the front door, running his fingers through his hair as he waited for the twins to finish so he could pull the door open.

"You cannot do this, I told you before that I've already had to bury someone I loved once and I cannot do that again. I swear if you walk out that door tonight I will not be here if and when you do come back. I will not be here to fix you; I will not be here if Smecker knocks on my door."

"We have ta do dis, we have ta end it and it ends tonight. I'm sorry ya feel dat way about us doing dis particular job but dis has been da goal da entire time."

My wild eyes went to Murphy, hoping to find some faint hint that he felt this was a bad idea as well. He kept his back to me, squatting down to the floor to shove the clips in the bag around to make room for the bundle of rope that sat on his shoulder.

"Ya know we have ta do dis, ain't no way we're changing our minds on da subject."

Straightening up Murphy turned to finally face me, reaching a hand out to touch me but as I shrunk away it was clearly present in his eyes that there was more at stake tonight than just taking out a mob boss.

"We'll call ya when it's over; even if ya don't answer we'll still leave ya a message ta let ya know how it goes."

Connor punctuated the finality of the decision with the door closing behind him. I stood in the hallway staring at the back of my front door hoping that one of them would come back but it never happened; I listened to the sounds of the elevator groaning away on its worn out path down to the first floor. They made my decision for me when they closed that door.

Walking to the bedroom door, I tore it open and took the suitcase out from under my bed, it had always been packed in case I needed to leave town. Scooping the cats up, I put them in their carrier and grabbed my duffle bag, draping the shoulder strap across my chest. Picking up my purse, the cats, and the handle of the suitcase I took one final look around at my former home before taking the keys off the rack and leaving for the last time.

The $10,000 I had in the duffle bag would be enough to get out of Boston and start a new life somewhere else. Rather than going to get my phone shut off, I figured I'd just let it go into collections and stay off the grid. Maybe going back to Utah for good wouldn't be such a bad thing now that his brother is behind bars and his father's been dead for at least the last year or so. I could finish collecting on the money that was owed, hire a new mechanic, and re-open the shop. I could also re-open the bar and get a few of those homes out on the rental market for tourists who wanted to hike on the canyons.

As long as I had a plan and could stay under the radar I was more than certain that I could make it without Connor or Murphy around. I was going to miss the ever-loving shit out of them and the sex, if I was being honest, but I could not stand on the wayside and wait to see if one or all of them ended up dead. It was better to just cut my losses and move on. I will never stop wondering what happened to them after tonight but I would rather think they were all safe and sound instead of dead and buried. Before I left though I had to make a quick pit stop.

"Hey Doc, you got a few minutes? Need to talk to you upstairs real quick."

"A…an…whatever ya need lass. It's about da b…b…boys, isn't it?"

We had walked up to the speakeasy, Doc shutting the door behind him to drown out the rowdy drunks downstairs.

"I just wanted to tell you good-bye before I left. They are so damned and determined about this hit tonight and it's going to end badly. I'm leaving Boston for good; I don't know where I'm going from here but I just thought you should know in case something happened to any of them and I wasn't around."

"Th…th…dere's no way of t…ta...ta…talking ya out of it, huh?"

I shook my head in reply, trying to fight back the tears.

"I've already had to bury someone I loved once before, I can't do it again. Burying your family is one thing but burying someone you love with every fiber of your being; I can't do that again. Good-bye Doc. Thanks for everything."

With that, I pulled the door open and walked down the stairs and out the front door without so much as glancing back. I sat in the car for a couple of minutes listening to the cats cry at their confinement. Taking a deep breath I turned the key listening to the sounds of the engine start up and finally putting the car into drive and taking off into the night.

* * *

"We can't just leave him here, we have ta get him out of here!"

"Murph listen ta me fer just dis once, would ya? Dis place is gonna be swarming with cops and we can't be here when dey show up. Yer hand is fucked up and me leg is shot ta shit. Ya can't expect Da ta carry him out on his own. Ya heard what Roc said we can't stop, we can't ever stop. Smecker and will take care of Roc fer us, he'll get da proper burial dat he deserves."

Connor had been arguing with Murphy the past five or ten minutes about leaving Rocco's body tied to a chair in the basement of Papa Joe's house. Their Da had shown up unexpectedly as an assassin for hire, unbeknownst him that his own sons were the target. The family prayer that came quietly across their lips was the only thing that stopped him before putting his own guns away as he recited the final lines. He was now sitting in the driver's seat of Rocco's car waiting for his sons to finish what had to be done. With time running out though, they had no choice but to leave Rocco's body in that basement.

They clung to each other, helping one another through the labyrinth of the unfamiliar home; rivulets of blood dotting the floor as they moved. The bag they brought with them contained spray bottles of ammonia; after Connor was safely tucked away in the backseat of the car, Murphy pulled one of the bottles from the bag, returning to the house to render every spot he saw useless. He stole a few precious moments as he returned to the basement, giving Rocco's cooling body one last longing look before dumping the contents of the bottle on a decent sized spot that his face had been on when Rocco whispered his dying words.

"You can't stop, don't ever stop." And then there was silence as he cried out that he was going to kill them and Connor's voice screaming out 'no' in utter disbelief.

The sound of sirens in the distance had him running up through the basement and back up the stairs, through the front door. The car was already in motion as Murphy struggled with his bad hand to climb inside. At least they were smart enough to park at least a half mile down the road from the house; a line of cars with lights and sirens blaring whizzed past them a few seconds later. Glancing over his shoulder through the back window, Connor watched as the last car to pass them swung around to block the corner, sealing off the area.

The drive back was painstakingly silent, neither of them knowing what they could possibly say or how they were going to tell her about Rocco and who this strange man was that was now with them. Connor finally broke the silence when he noticed that Murphy had refused to relax his broken hand the entire way.

"Ya need ta have dat hand looked at, Red should still be up waiting ta hear back from us. Da, could ya pull over here at da next corner so we can call her?"

"Who exactly is it dat yer gonna call? Does she know? Who is she? Can she be trusted?"

"We call her Red since she won't tell us her real name. She's known fer a few weeks now what it is we do. She's more or less our nurse and puts us back together after one of us gets hurt. We're both kind of sleeping with her so our relationship to da lass may be more on the intimate side of things especially after she's done fixing us and she feels da need ta release some built up stress and tension of her own."

As instructed, their Da pulled the car over once they reached the next corner. Connor got out first, reaching for the quarter in his pocket and picking the phone up off the receiver before dropping it into the slot. Upon hearing the dial tone he started pressing the seven digits he memorized as her phone number and waited for her to pick up.

"Did she answer?" Murphy asked, struggling to keep his damaged hand away from any hard surface that could cause him more pain.

"Straight ta voicemail; she must've turned her phone off. Ya still got her spare key right? Maybe she's just so stressed she turned her phone off so she wouldn't have ta sit on pins and needles waiting ta hear back from us."

"Maybe or maybe she made good on her t'reat and left."

"What'd she say?"

The twins climbed back into the backseat of the car and waited until their Da let up off the brake and the car was in motion again; lighting up a pair of cigarettes, handing one to his brother Murphy informed him that she had her phone turned off, but the thought that she actually left town as she had threatened to do was sitting at the forefront of his mind.

She had been telling them for weeks about these strange dreams that she'd been having about an old man; an old man who turned out to be their father. She had told him about an ominous voice telling her that the three would spread their blackened wings and be the vengeful striking hammer of God. He looked as confused by the message as she did. The only part that even made any sense was the number three: there were three of them in the car. Murphy knew deep down that what he and Connor did was God's will but their father's motives were questionable. Yakavetta was still very much alive, who was to say that he wasn't being paid to infiltrate and kill them in their sleep?

Fifteen minutes later, the car pulled up outside of the apartment building. Murphy and their Da had Connor in between them as they walked up the two or three steps to the front door, then climbed into the elevator taking it up to the third floor to her apartment. Murphy fished the keys to her apartment out of his pocket, shouldering the door open to keep from having to use his bad hand as much as possible until it could be fixed.

"Red, where are ya lass? We need some help out here!"

Silence.

They worked to get Connor seated on the couch before Murphy started looking from room to room.

"Dere's a first aid kit in da bathroom under da sink, could ya get it fer me so we can get his leg wrapped? She's not here; dere's no note, no not'ing. She's gone and it was all because of us. Damnit, I _knew_ we shouldn't have done dis tonight. Rocco would still be alive and she'd still be here."

"Ya can't blame yerself. We can't do dis here t'ough; we'll take da first aid kit and get us one of dose extended stay motel rooms. I know yer hurting over losing Roc but we'll need time ta come up with a proper plan ta take Papa Joe out fer good. C'mon, give me a hand up and out ta da car."

Murphy numbly nodded his head as he hooked his hand under his brother's forearm, helping him to his feet. Once Connor was comfortably back in the car and the first aid kit had been safely stowed in the trunk, Murphy made a quick run back up the stairs to grab something from her apartment. Her bed was stripped clean of the blankets and pillows but he knew she kept an extra blanket in the closet just for him on those nights when he would wake up drenched in a cold sweat from being sick. It smelled like her and he just wanted something that would serve as a reminder of what could've been.

"Do ya t'ink we can stop off at da bar real quick and see if Doc's seen her?" Murphy asked, returning to the car with the blanket tucked under his arm.

"We could try, but we'd have ta be quick about it. Da longer we stick around da more likely we are ta get caught. Just head straight and make a right at da t'ird block. We'll have ta park da car in da alley." Connor instructed, leaning over the passenger seat and pointing out the window in the direction they wanted to go in.

"Doc, I need ta talk ta ya, got a couple of minutes?" Murphy was already at the bar before the car was even parked; he had all but leapt out as it drove past the establishment much to his father and Connor's protests.

Doc tilted his head towards the stairs, indicating that he'd talk to him up there. Taking two steps at a time, Murphy paced the floor outside the door of the speakeasy waiting for Doc to make his way up the stairs. He had already done a high and low search of the speakeasy to find it as barren as her apartment. Maybe she really had taken off; she sounded really serious when she said it but he didn't think…

"She's gone, Murphy. C…c…came by about an hour ago and told me dat she was leaving. Didn't say wh…wh…where she was going, just dat she had ta get out. S…some…somet'ing about having ta bury a loved one before and not being able ta do it again. If I knew any b…be…better I could've sworn dat she all but said she loved ya."

Again, Murphy nodded his head numbly. His eyes had taken on a sorrowful look as he patted Doc's shoulder, taking the stairs back down and out to where the car was parked. Rocco was dead and she was gone; the weight of the world fell on his shoulders and he felt that somehow it was entirely his fault. Had he listened to what she was telling him, maybe Rocco would still be alive and maybe she'd still be here.

"What'd Doc say?"

The car's headlights switched on and the car reared back out of the alley, once it cleared the walls, it switched into drive and lurched forward; destination unknown as the dark of night concealed the three bodies sitting inside a quiet vehicle.

"She's gone; came by da bar and said she was leaving. Never said where she was going but dat she couldn't sit and wait ta see which one of she'd have ta see get buried. I lost her and it's our fault. If I-"

"She made her choice, no sense in dwelling on it when we've still got a job ta do. After everyt'ing is said and done den ya can go about feeling sorry fer yerself. I've been spending da last 25 years doing a lot of t'inking about all da shit dat I missed when da two of ya were growing up. Word of advice: use da time ya have now ta t'ink about how yer gonna make it up ta her when ya see her again. Everyt'ing will work out in da end da way it should."

Murphy sat in the backseat of the car, soaking in the words his Da had just uttered: " _when_ ya see her again." He didn't say if, he said when. Perhaps he was speaking to his own circumstances having left his wife and sons 25 years ago; it was just a matter of time before he saw them again and the time was now for him to see his sons. If his Da could have an optimistic outlook after being locked up for 25 years, then it was possible that he could wait an eternity for the fates to bring her back to him. But did he have the patience to wait for an undetermined amount of time for that to happen?

They were about an hour outside of the city limits when the car pulled into a vacant parking space of an extended stay motel. They could set-up shop here until the time came to take out Papa Joe once and for all; a time when he couldn't slip through their fingers, a time when Rocco's death would be avenged. Their Da pulled the first aid kit out of the trunk and made his way to the front office while the boys stayed out by the car smoking their cigarettes, having one of their silent conversations.

"C'mon boys, get inside so we can get ya fixed up. I'm sure yer both tired of walking around on a bum leg and a busted hand. Da folks at da front office t'ink we're on an extended fishing trip so we'll use dat as a cover should anyone start asking questions. Okay, who's first?"

Connor volunteered himself to go first, hobbling to the bathroom to change into a pair of shorts while his brother occupied himself with another cigarette at the round dining table, pulling his guns from their holsters and laying them out to be cleaned. He was already on the phone with Smecker letting him know where they were even though he never answered the phone in his hotel room or the one set up in his office at the precinct. Wherever he was though, he'd get the message eventually. His second phone call of the night had been Red; just like before it went straight to voicemail. Hearing her voice on the recorded message had him feeling a mix between hurt and anger. Both because of the fact that she was gone and he had no idea where she could even be at this hour of the night.

"Why is dere a bit in da bottom of da box?"

"Fer us ta bite down on when t'ings got too bad while she was doing meatball surgery. Her first patch job, Connor took one to da chest on da left side just under his ribs; she had ta cut him open and dig around with her fingers before she found it. Bastard was lucky she was able ta get it out ot'erwise he would've taken a trip ta da hospital fer a real surgery."

"Not as bad as last week when ya got hit in da shoulder and it fragmented after it hit yer collarbone. Dat was a messy one; how she never managed ta get sick ta her stomach with all dat blood I will never understand."

"She's been working with da boys on dose cold cases. I guess she's used ta being up close and personal with da dead."

Once Connor's leg was wrapped up, their Da went over to the table Murphy was sitting at. Picking up his son's hand by the wrist and turning it over he was finally able to get a good look at the mangled limb under a better light source. Connor had really done a number on his brother's hand while trying to break him out of the handcuffs. He was lucky that the bone wasn't sticking out but it was still a pretty ghastly sight even for someone of their father's age.

"Ya tell me what ya want me ta do ta fix dis. I can eit'er set it da way it is but it'll heal looking like dis or I can re-break it and set it straight."

"Just break it and set it straight; afterwards I'm going ta bed."

His father nodded his head and offered the bit for him to take knowing that the pain would be immense. As they agreed, the bones were set and bandaged up until they healed straight. He would not be shooting a gun off in that hand until after it healed which, as Red would remind him, could take anywhere between 6-8 weeks. This would be plenty of time to get a plan together to get rid of Papa Joe once and for all.

That night, Murphy did not sleep at all; every time he closed his eyes he saw the look of terror on Rocco's face just before that shot rang out. Rocco's final words echoed inside his mind on a constant loop. Every time he opened his eyes, waking from those horrible dreams, he found an empty space on the bed where she would usually be sleeping. Glancing over at the alarm clock that sat on the bedside table between the two beds, the numbers flashed out 5:46 a.m. He let out a frustrated sigh before throwing the blankets off and onto his brother; grabbing the pack of cigarettes off the rounded dining table, he stepped onto the balcony across from their door.

Crossing one foot over the other at the ankle, he fished a cigarette out and set the pack down on the rail; lighting up and taking a deep drag he stood out there watching the sun make its ascent in the eastern sky, diminishing the brightness of the stars as a gentle breeze brought in the smells of Boston's harbors. His thoughts drifting to her as he wondered if she really did drive all night or if she pulled over somewhere to catch a few hours' worth of sleep. When he searched her room, he found that her duffle bag was gone; he knew she could make it on her own but that didn't take away from the fact that over the last six months or so they had grown closer to one another.

"Still t'inking dat everyt'ing dat happened last night is yer fault?"

He nodded his head, his gaze never wavering as he continued to look out towards the city with the sun rising steadily over the horizon. Even the sound of his father's voice couldn't stop the thoughts that were consuming him.

"I blamed meself fer years after I got locked up. Blamed meself fer not being dere ta help yer Ma raise ya; blamed meself fer missing all of yer firsts when ya were growing up. Eventually I learned dat I had ta stop blaming meself fer all of dat and I made a promise ta God dat if I ever got out dat when it was all over I'd find all of ya and work ta fix all of da missed time. Even if none of ya wanted anyt'ing ta do with me, at least I could say dat I made an effort. We're all human and we're all bound ta make mistakes; some mistakes just take longer den others ta fix."

"Why'd ya leave?"

"I had one last job ta do; you two were still in diapers when I left. But dat's a story fer anot'er time. Why did ya not stay when yer lass was asking ya ta?"

"Had one last job ta do before we left, da plan was ta go ta New York after last night. We were gonna go back fer her after it was done. It's my fault dat Roc's dead and it's my fault dat Red's gone."

"Da more ya say dat, da more bitter ya'll become over time. Focus on da task in front of ya fer da time being. When it's all said and done, we'll stay fer as long as we can so ya can find her. But understand dis, if we have ta leave before den ya can't come back unless somet'ing calls ya back."

His Da laid a hand on his shoulder before turning to head back inside. Murphy stayed out there until he finished off his second cigarette of the morning. When he finally returned to the confines of the tiny room, he found his brother sitting in bed with the remote laying on his stomach and heard the sound of the shower sputtering from behind the bathroom door.

"Dey mentioned Roc's death on da news dis morning but didn't say anyt'ing about what happened. Dey also said Papa Joe's got a trial coming up in t'ree months; we'll get him dere and put an end ta it all. Smecker called while Da was outside talking ta ya. He said Roc's funeral is gonna be in a couple of days; his Ma has already signed da papers fer his body ta be released. Said dat he was gonna be cremated and he'll have somet'ing at a mausoleum."

"Have ya heard from her, yet?"

"Tried calling about every 10 or 15 minutes since ya woke me up. Phone's still turned off and I've been leaving messages hoping she'll call back but I t'ink she's gone for good. Dat one's one me not you. I was da one who made it final with no room for discussion when I shut dat door in her face."

The two fell silent as the shower continued to sputter until it was broken by the sound of the phone ringing. They held their collective breaths as they fought for domination of the phone, finally settling it between them so they could both hear.

"Red, is dat you? C'mon lass, please say somet'ing; we need ta hear yer voice, I need ta know dat yer alright." Murphy was practically pleading with whoever was on the other end of the phone as Connor continued to hold his breath.

 _Hey everyone, tonight is a bonus posting. I apologize in advance if there are any grammatical errors or continuity issues in this chapter. I have been extremely sick the last few days and today I started coughing up blood as well as losing consciousness. The doctor has me hopped up on a few different medications at the moment and has me seeing a specialist later this week. If you notice any errors or continuity issues, please let me know so I can fix those right away. As always comments & reviews welcome, please PM me with any suggestions you may have._


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

"Sorry sweetheart, not the person you were hoping for. Connor asked me to see if I could pull her phone records over the last 12 hours and see what I could find out. From what he's told me, she left shortly after you did and the last person to see her was the bartender. I can see all the incoming calls you two have made since things have gone south but her phone's been turned off since about 9:30 last night and hasn't been back on since. Unless she turns the phone on, I won't be able to get a location. The only thing I can really tell you is that unless she's been missing for a couple of days the police aren't going to do anything. I can make some phone calls to some agents in offices where she's been known to stay and ask them to keep an eye out for her but that's about all I can do. If anything she's a smart woman who knows how to hide and if she doesn't want to be found then she will do everything she can to stay hidden. You're probably sick of hearing it but there's a trial coming up in a couple of months; try to focus on that and get your head out of the clouds. I'll be by in a few hours with some things for you."

The phone clicked on the other end and the pair looked at each other before Connor dropped the phone back onto the receiver. The shower had finally cut off and they could hear their Da in the bathroom attempting to sing a horrible rendition of _Just a Song at Twilight_. It was a song they both knew all too well: their Ma used to sing it to them when they were little when she would put them to bed at night. She had told them that their Da would sing it to her while he was drunk as shit but it meant a lot to her regardless of how drunk or sober he was. The words tumbling off his lips had started getting to Murphy; he had to get out before he did something stupid. Even though it was still pretty early in the morning, he went back outside for his third cigarette.

Standing out on the balcony for the second time that morning, he listened to the sounds of the world come to life once again. His concentration on the skyline was broken when he heard a car door slam shut on the parking lot below. Leaning over the railing, he caught a quick glimpse of a head of red hair and her jawline pulling itself into the driver's seat. Rushing down the stairs of the second floor out onto the parking lot, he got there just in time to see the taillights of her car head south. He stood in the spot where her car had been parked the night before thinking how he could've been so blind to not have noticed it there parked next to Rocco's.

* * *

As I drove off the lot, I heard Murphy's voice screaming and shouting for me to wait. I peeled off the lot with more urgency than I had the first time he kissed me after I dropped him off at work the day he had his accident. I heard them outside the door after they pulled in last night hopeful that they hadn't found me. Relief washed over me as I heard a third voice talking to them with an authoritative tone; almost like how a father would talk to his children when he wanted them to do something. It was a tone that was all too familiar when one of them was in a dominating mood and left me more than sexually frustrated, desperate, and panting for more.

I wanted nothing more than to turn the car right around and drive back to where Murphy now stood, but the iron chains around my heart wouldn't let me. I had told them last night that if they walked out that door that I was not coming back and I meant it. I only stayed there last night because I couldn't see straight through the tears that were steadily falling. Today though, I was heading south; maybe I would go see my aunt in Virginia before heading back out west to see a couple of cousins in Tennessee. I would eventually head back home to St. Louis for a pit stop.

Last night I made up my mind to go back to Utah for good. I made a plan and I needed to follow through with it. Afterall I was going back there anyway in three months, if I showed up earlier than what everyone anticipated then I could catch them off guard and get my money back sooner than expected. Smecker had mentioned having field agents out in Utah who worked to help get me off the hook while I was being held in federal custody. Trying to stay under their radar was going to be my biggest challenge to date. I could dye my hair again but they had already seen me with blonde hair and red hair; my only viable option would be going brunette since wild and crazy kool-aid colors were kind of out of the question. I would ask my cousin to dye it when I got back to St. Louis. Maybe I would cut it short, neck length, and donate it. I preferred subtle changes to my appearance as opposed to big changes.

I drove for the next hour or so before pulling into a rest area. I'm sure by now that the cats needed to get out and stretch their legs as well as go to the bathroom. As I pulled into an empty space and shut the car off, I saw that my car was the only one here with the exception of the smattering of big rig trucks across the lot. I pulled my gun from the glove compartment and tucked it inside my waistband before getting out to put the cats on their leashes. After fighting with them for a half hour this morning to get their harnesses on it was just easier to leave them on for the rest of the journey. We walked around in the grassy areas for the next 10 minutes or so before I heard another car pull into the parking lot. I was too busy waiting for the cats to take care of their business to hear the door of the car gently close and footsteps scraping along the pavement. That didn't stop me though from having my hand wrapped around my gun as the sounds made their approach.

"Excuse me, lass, ya wouldn't happen ta go by da name 'Red,' would ya?"

I recognized the voice as being that authoritative one from last night, but I kept my back to him. My hand still wrapped around the gun and the other slowly picking up the slack on the leashes.

"Who wants to know?"

"Ya've got me boys pretty worried about ya with yer phone shut off; been trying yer number just about every 10 or 15 minutes since last night and dis morning Murphy comes bursting t'rough da door of our room after I get out of da shower screaming like a mad man dat he saw ya drive off da lot without so much as a second t'ought. Started tearing da place apart looking fer da keys so he could go after ya."

"I asked them not to go last night; judging by the way you're talking and the fact that you're here I'm assuming Rocco didn't make it out of there alive. You have your sons and they have their father; they don't need me around."

"How is it dat ya know I'm dere Da? Why not an uncle?"

"You called them 'your boys'. I have to go."

Walking into the overgrown grass, I picked the cats up and made my way back to the car, gently putting them back inside their carrier and shutting the door of the backseat. I had left the windows down to allow the air to circulate while the car was shut off and also so they knew that I hadn't just left them. Cats are a lot like people, they like to know where you are at all times regardless of whether or not they want your attention or affection.

"I suppose dere's no way I can talk ya inta changing yer mind is dere? Is dere anyt'ing ya want me ta tell 'em?"

" _Is mise Caoimhe_."

"Lass, wait."

"No. What they're doing is something that cannot be stopped; it's all part of _your_ God's grand design as they've both tried to tell me. I don't believe in God and there's no part for me to play, there never was. I was a distraction that caused Murphy to end up in the hospital for a month and a half; I was distraction that caused Connor to say things he wouldn't have said otherwise. I've interfered for long enough; it's time for them to go back to what they were doing before I came crashing in. You've got a lot to learn about your boys so I suggest the three of you forget that I even exist and just move on."

Walking around to the driver's side, I stepped in and started the car up again, backing out of my parking spot and taking off down to the highway towards Virginia. I was already a couple of hours outside of Boston so I figured it'd be another 8 hours or so down to see my aunt. Factor in stops for gas, bathroom breaks, etc. it would probably end up being closer to 9 hours. At least I would be there before sunset and I could get some good southern food in my stomach. After driving for about 20 minutes I started laughing a little bit not being able to believe that I actually told a complete stranger my real name to give as a final message to the boys.

* * *

"Did ya find her?"

Murphy had been pacing the entrance of the door frantically since watching his Da close it a couple of hours ago. He had been smoking one cigarette after another in between cleaning and re-cleaning his guns. When he wasn't doing that, he was itching to get his hands on something, anything that he could rip apart and put back together again to keep from going even crazier.

Connor was still laying on the bed with his leg propped up watching the events unfold on the morning news waiting for Smecker to show up to debrief them on what happened the previous night; hoping maybe he could sneak them into Rocco's funeral so they could say their good-byes.

"I found her; she was pulled over in a rest area; strangest t'ing I've ever seen, a pair of cats on a leash. I t'ought she was maybe walking her dogs but no, I see her with cats."

"She was doing dat when we first met her; did she say anyt'ing at all ta ya? Is she coming back?"

Connor had turned the volume down on the t.v. set, sitting himself up a little straighter as he waited as patiently as he could for his father to answer the burning question.

"Before I tell ya what she had to say I t'ink ya should both know dat she's hurting worse den da two of you are and even more den she's letting on. She never said it outright but I could see da pain dat was hiding behind her eyes and I could see her heart shattering. It was da same look yer Ma had when I left. She said dat da t'ree of us have each ot'er so dere was no need fer her ta be around anymore."

"Dat's fucking bullshit, how could she t'ink dat we don't need her around?"

Now it was Connor's turn to get hot under the collar. Before that he was able to hide the fact that he was angry that she had left his brother standing in the parking lot the way she did. Before that he was able to understand that she was angry about them leaving. Now though, he was nearly blinded by rage that she was resorting back to old habits.

"She never had ta use her words fer me ta see it; she has been used fer one purpose or anot'er t'roughout her whole life. With me around she felt dat she would no longer serve a purpose in eit'er of yer lives. Ya both all but admitted it last night; when I asked ya who she was, ya told me she was yer nurse of sorts and her job was ta put ya back together again as well as ta satisfy ot'er needs. What ya failed ta do last night was read between da lines and see dat what I was really asking was who she was ta ya. Ya both labelled her as someone who was only around fer a specific purpose, ya both failed ta see dat she was a person who didn't want ta be kept around ta serve yer needs. One t'ing ya need ta learn about women boys is dat when dey get tired of being walked on dey are gonna leave even if ya keep telling yerself dat she never will."

"Did she say anyt'ing else?" Murphy asked his back to his family and his hand on the door. He had already snatched the keys from his father's hand but held back from leaving sensing that there was something left unsaid.

"She wanted me ta give ya both a message before she took off down da road."

"And what would dat be? So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adios-"

"Murph, watch yer tongue; ya may be pissed about her taking off-"

"Shut yer fucking mouth! Yer not me Da, ya have no right telling me what ta do."

"No, but I am. Both of ya shut yer fucking traps and listen," they instantly quieted their bickering as they waited for him to continue, "she wanted me ta tell ya dat her name was Caoimhe. If ya asked me I t'ink da name suits her rather well considering what da two of ya have put her t'rough."

Murphy opened and slammed the door shut behind him without a second thought, taking the stairs down to the parking lot of the motel. He turned the ignition over and spun out of the lot, his back end fishtailing as the tires spun around in the loose gravel.

After all this time, when he thought he was taking significant strides with her he came to find out that he only ended up taking baby steps. In the time that he spent upstairs in the room listening to his father, he had learned a new side to her he never knew existed. She never let on to the fact that she felt like she was being used as an object for their amusement; matter of fact she never really opened herself up to either of them. Not wholly anyway, the bits and pieces she did tell them were enough to pacify them when they asked questions about certain things but they never really took the time to dig deeper. What she did finally share within their recent history could only be classified as scratching the surface. There was still more that she wasn't telling either of them yet recalling the conversation that he had with her sister the day he got out of the hospital it all became clearer that she wouldn't or couldn't express to them how it was she truly felt, she'd never be able to say that she felt like she was being used even though she knew she was.

The stories she told them about her ex made him realize that how right his Da was. Before he and Connor came along, she always viewed herself as an object and allowed herself to be treated as such. They had come in and tried to show her that she was in fact a person but after everything she had endured and everything they had put her through over the last three weeks she reverted back to that old mentality that she was there to serve a purpose and nothing more.

It was something that Murphy was now regretting, especially knowing now what her real name was. It truly did suit her both inside and out. Now she was gone.

He was brought out of his thoughts as the phone in his pocket started going off. Without thinking, he stomped on the brakes until he was completely pulled over on the side of the road and tore the phone from his pocket, screaming into the receiver.

"Fucking say somet'ing or I swear ta Christ I'm hanging dis damn t'ing up and kicking yer fucking ass when I get back Conn."

"Try looking at who's calling before you start slinging words around, asshole."

The line clicked on the other side, ending the call. Confused, Murphy pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the name flashing across the small screen. In a fit of rage, he brought his broken hand down on the exposed metal of the steering wheel, retracting the limb as quickly as when he put it there. Scrambling to get out of the car, he fought against the seatbelt that held him hostage. Once he was able to break free, he continued his fit of rage taking it out on Rocco's piece of shit car. Kicking the side panels made him feel a little better until a state trooper pulled up behind him and started questioning him about what he was doing. He was finally able to calm down enough to regain his composure at the threat of being arrested for disorderly conduct. As much as he didn't care at the moment what happened to him, he knew that she would want better for him.

"C'mon, I know yer dere. Please answer da phone, I'm sorry I yelled at ya, I didn't mean it. I t'ought it was Connor trying ta talk me down off da ledge. It hasn't even been a full 24 hours and I'm fucking miserable. Now I know how ya felt all dose nights when ya were waking up with dose nightmares; every time I closed my eyes last night da only t'ing I saw was Roc's face just before dat bastard shot him and da last t'ing he told me before he took his last breath. Every time I woke up without ya lying next ta me, I wanted ta go out dere and look fer ya. I've gotten so used ta knowing you'd be at home waiting fer us when we got back dat now dat yer gone I don't know what to do-"

"Mailbox for this phone number is now full. Please hang up and try your call again."

He had tried for the eighth time since hearing her voice on the other end of the line to get her to call him back. But his pleas had gone unanswered; her phone was shut off again, her voicemail was full and he was still sitting on the side of the highway smoking his fourth cigarette since being out there. He was trying to calm himself down before turning around to head back to the motel. He didn't want to be there until he felt that he was in a good enough state of mind to be able to focus on getting their plans together to take out Papa Joe. They had the next three months to plan out everything and go through it all with a fine tooth comb; working out the flaws that would get them caught, working on getting all of the details down to a science.

Glancing at the clock on the phone, Murphy saw he had basically been sitting out in the middle of nowhere for the past five hours. It was going on 1:00 in the afternoon and his stomach was growling out its hunger pains rather loudly. Sighing, he gave in to the temptations of food. He turned the car on and swung it back onto the highway turning it around at a crossroads as he headed back to the motel. His only stop on the way was a little Chinese restaurant; unconsciously he ordered her favorites only to realize his mistake when he got back to the motel and started laying the food out on the table. Connor said nothing as he picked up the container that had his usual order in it, although it smelled nothing like what she would normally get for him. It didn't taste nearly as good either.

A prominent knock sounded on the door, going on instinct and very little sleep, the trio reached for their respective guns; each softly pulling the hammer back as their Da crept to the door, peering through the peephole. Glancing back over his shoulder, he gave his boys a slight nod letting them know it was alright. Uncocking their weapons, the door opened with a little more gusto than required.

"Okay boys, let's get down to business. We have three months to plan this out and the more we get done now, the better off we'll be in the end. Chin up Murphy, I have it on good authority that our favorite red head is going to be just fine on her own." Smecker's voice carried as it passed through the door, picking up the unopened box of beef and broccoli.

"What makes ya t'ink dat?"

"She called me; wouldn't say where she was or where she was going but she did want me to tell you that whatever it is you have planned for Yakavetta it will work; you will succeed in taking him out and the world will soon know what it is you two stand for. She was fighting back the tears when she told me that pretty soon everything about Boston, including her, will be a distant memory and you'll all be happy and healthy back in the homeland soon enough. She knows a storm is brewing and she knows that now is the time for her to step back and let you both go whether it's something either of you want or not. She's a smart woman and I'd listen to her even if it is going to kill you."

"Ya didn't answer my question, what makes ya t'ink she's going to be fine on her own?"

"Because she's had ta do it before," Connor interjected, "she's like a younger version of Ma. She can pick herself up by da bootstraps, hold her head up, and do what needs ta be done. She needs time ta herself ta figure out what she wants. Distancing herself like dis may be da only t'ing dat makes sense ta her. She can take care of herself and we're only a phone call away if she needs us."

"She's too pissed at us ta try calling back. She called me while I was driving; I t'ought it was you and I started screaming inta da phone. Her voice came t'rough and it was den dat I realized how big of a mistake I made. Smecker, if she calls ya again or if ya ever talk ta her again, could ya let her know I'm sorry? If I ever made her feel like an object instead of a person, if I ever made it seem like she was being kept fer a purpose instead of a reason-"

"I get the picture Murph, I'll pass the message along if she ever calls me again. I was able to get a location though when she called. It wasn't exact but she's hauling ass down south; picked the cell signal up just outside of New York near the Pennsylvania border. Anything you want to add to that Connor or does that just about sum it up for you?"

"Pretty much sums it up fer me as well, but if ya could let her know dat I t'ink Dollywood is hiring I'd appreciate it. It's a joke just between da two of us so she'd understand what it means."

"I'll be sure to pass that along as well. For now though, let's get down to business. By the way, Mr. MacManus, I'd like to thank you giving me that lump on the head last night."

"It's Noah, if ya will. And what are ya talking about?"

"I found out who all was at the house last night and managed to infiltrate the inside so I could get to the three of them. I took one fat ass out in the bathroom and another by the stairs. I was looking at the guy in the lounge chair and then the next thing I know, its lights out. I was trying to warn them about the hired guns that Yakavetta had at the house as well as the infamous Il Duce being paroled out of prison. By the time I came to there was a blood trail leading out of the house; followed it down to the basement and found your friend tied down to the chair with a hole in his chest. I am truly sorry for your loss; however his sacrifice to your cause will not go unrecognized."

"Dat was _you_ in da dress? I've seen a lot of t'ings in my day but dat is certainly da first I've seen of an agent in a dress. Which agency is it ya work fer again? Don't t'ink I quite caught dat."

"I am an F.B.I. agent," he started setting the box of food down on the table, "my entire career has been spent putting people like you and Yakavetta behind bars. I have been trying for the past year to work two cases simultaneously and bring the perpetrators to justice. The first case I've been assigned to work was Yakavetta's; the second has been the Saints case. Until _very_ recently, your identities have remained a mystery.

"You boys did a hit not too long ago in which your friend got his finger shot off; it was the smoking gun that cracked your case wide open. I know I said your identities have remained a mystery until recently. You remember Dolly, Duffy, and Greenly? I have slowly been bringing them in on this. They are of the same mind I am and feel that what you do is necessary. The four of us have made a pact of sorts and have agreed to help you free this city from Yakavetta, but after he's been disposed of you all need to get out of the country. We will go about our normal, everyday lives and none of us will speak of this ever again. You cannot come back for any reason-"

"But-"

"No buts Murphy, you cannot come back for any reason no matter what the circumstances are. Once she settles down somewhere I can request a personal favor and have an agent keep tabs on her. Even doing that for you is gonna be high risk, especially if she spots the agent and goes on the run again."

The room was silent save for the t.v. set that played lowly in the background.

"If we're gonna take out Yakavetta, we'll need a plan." Connor started, setting his container of Chinese food on the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Fer fuck's sake." Murphy scoffed, flopping down the bed

"It's all in da execution, ya gotta see it t'rough to da end. Ya've always got such a fucking negative attitude."

" _My_ negative fucking attitude doesn't have anyt'ing ta do with dis. If it wasn't fer _yer_ plans with _yer_ stupid fucking rope…"

Smecker remained in his spot watching the two bicker and argue, yet his attention started shifting towards the eldest MacManus who sat in a chair next to the window smoking a cigar.

"She told me before she took off dat I should get ta know me boys better. T'ink it's safe ta assume dat Connor has seen way too many James Bond movies and judging by dat swing Murphy's seen one too many John Wayne movies."

"You've got the rest of your lives to catch up. I'll be back in a week with an update on Yakavetta's case."

Turning from Noah to retrieve his suit jacket from the back of a chair, Smecker made his way to the door, pausing for only a second as Noah regained his attention.

"And her?"

At this, the twins quieted down and lowered their fists.

"I'll see what I can do. You need to focus on Yakavetta and forget about this girl." Smecker opened and closed the door behind him, plunging the room into silence.

There was no way possible either of them could forget her, even if they wanted to. However, Smecker was right that they needed to focus their attention on Yakavetta. It was because of him that Rocco was dead. Getting up from the floor, they looked at each other knowing that the possibility of never seeing her again hung in the air.

"Going out fer a bit, need ta t'ink some t'ings t'rough." Connor grabbed his pea coat off of the other bed, sliding his arms through the sleeves and walked out the door.

"Gonna hop in da shower fer a bit." Murphy mumbled, walking into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Noah watched and took in the scene that was laid out before him. This woman he had a very brief conversation with has somehow managed to entwine her life with theirs. His boys were concerned enough about her that one would try to go after her and the other would try calling her every five minutes. He knew deep down that she would never come back, she told him without ever uttering a word. But he knew he had to at least get a message to her once she settled down. At the very least she needed to know his boys were good people and they never meant to hurt her the way they did. She needed to hear the unspoken words.

 _Hope everyone has been enjoying their weekend! Just one chapter left and this story will be a wrap. I fully understand that with that many vowels smashed together her name may be a bit difficult to pronounce. Caoimhe is pronounced kee-va. As always, comments/reviews welcome. PM me with any suggestions you may have._


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

"So what's da plan? Ya said we've got t'ree months ta get dis sorted out." Connor started, shutting the door behind Smecker as he entered the room.

The trio had survived their first week of living together under the roof and confines of an extended stay motel room. Rocco's funeral was held the previous day and much to their disappointment were unable to attend. They were aware that Smecker had attended on their behalf and would let them know how it went should the subject arise.

"Well, we need to get a lay of the land so to speak; I've got Dolly and Duffy at the courthouse now surveying the layout. I've got Greenly back at the station pulling Yakavetta's record to see what we're up against. This will be his third time going on trial and I want this case to be air tight."

"It won't matter how air tight dis case is, he'll be dead by da time we're t'rough with him."

"I know yer angry about what he did ta yer friend, but dat way of t'inking will only lead ya down a dark path." Noah spoke at length, sensing the anger that radiated from Murphy.

"Hate ta say it Murph, but Da's right. Roc would want better from ya; he'd want better from me. Speaking of Roc…"

"Connor, I know you guys wanted to go yesterday but it would've been too risky. His mom had him cremated and only held a memorial service. She didn't elaborate on any of the details and I didn't ask for any; don't _even_ think about it. None of you are leaving this room to bother that poor woman. Maybe once this all blows over I can find out something, but not before then. You need to focus on taking Yakavetta down.

"Now let's get down to business. I gotta be back at the station in an hour to make sure Greenly hasn't done anything stupid. Have you given any thought as to how you're gonna go about getting rid of Yakavetta? We all know you boys want him dead since he'll probably slip through the justice system. Let's try to be practical about this, no James Bond type shit this time."

"Don't exactly have it planned out as it were but we were t'inking of doing it front of everyone. Let 'em all know what it is we stand fer; let 'em know we're not gonna tolerate it." Murphy admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck unsure of how Smecker would react.

"Not much of a start, but at least it's better than crawling through the vents and suspending yourselves from the goddamn ceiling by some flimsy piece of rope. We'll try again next week when Dolly and Duffy report back on how the courthouse looks. You better start thinking of some decent ideas though if you want to pull this off. I've gotta get back, got another interview I'm conducting this afternoon with another one of Yakavetta's former wrecking chiefs."

Smecker turned to leave, his hand on the door ready to turn the knob when he felt the nagging sensation that one or both of the boys had left something unspoken. He had a feeling he knew it was about and paused momentarily to give them an opportunity to speak.

"Have ya found her yet?" Connor spoke quietly, sensing that Murphy was just as curious.

"Sorry boys, her phone is still shut off. The last time she had it turned on it was less than a minute, probably checking her voicemail. She was in Tennessee but I wasn't able to get anything exact. Judging by her movements she probably had family somewhere down south and was visiting with them for a day or two before moving on. She's smart I'll give her that but like I said last time, you need to forget about her and focus on the next three months."

Twisting the knob, Smecker opened and shut the door behind him as he left the room. Noah watched as his boys hung their heads low, knowing they were silently talking with each other over this woman they worried about more than their own Ma. However Smecker did have a point, they needed to shift their focus away from this woman and get their plans laid out for taking down Yakavetta as well as getting home.

For the next three months, Smecker met with Connor and Murphy in their small motel room at least once a week. On occasion, he would meet with them twice a week giving them updates on the status of Papa Joe's upcoming trial. Each week they would ask if he had heard from Caoimhe and each week he told them the same thing: her phone was shut off, his other agents could not locate her, and she could be anywhere but doubted that she left the continental U.S. Four days before Papa Joe's trial, Smecker came bursting through the door with Dolly, Duffy, and Greenly in tow; each of them was carrying a bag containing only God knows what.

"We went back to your apartment one last time and got it cleaned out of anything that you may want to take with you on the trip back aside from what you got on your backs."

Dolly and Duffy each threw a bag at the twins; simultaneously, they unzipped the bags thrown at them and started pulling out more of the clothes they had squirreled away under their mattresses, an extra set of rosaries their Ma had given them before they initially left home just in case something happened, and three boxes of bullets. Connor laughed to himself as he pulled the rope out of his bag and glanced over to find his brother pulling a rather large knife out of his.

"Appreciate da parting gift boys, but I've gotta ask what's in da last bag?" Connor asked, putting his things away and carelessly dropping the bag over the edge of the bed, tucking his bare arms behind his head as he returned his attention to the movie that was coming back from commercial break.

"We can't exactly go driving up to the courthouse dressed in suits and flashing badges. Gotta play the part of a prisoner transport officer. It's all part of Smecker's grand plan of getting you guys in; once you're in we're gone and act like nothing ever happened. We go back to our normal, boring lives and you're on the next boat back to the Emerald Island." Duffy offered.

"Just so I can get this straight, I'm riding with Smecker to the courthouse; we park in the back lot where it's free of cameras. I go around to the front, walk right in and pull the fire alarm, right? Are you sure the back lot doesn't have cameras? We'll be completely fucked if there are. Not to mention-"

"Dolly, I'm positive there are no cameras back there. Why do you think I went to the courthouse last week? Do you really think I was _just_ checking in on the security detail? I made sure to find out where _all_ of the cameras were both inside and outside of the building. None of the courtrooms have visual or audio equipment and the only cameras inside are at the entrance and the hallways. This case will be televised so I suggest if you boys don't want your faces seen you make sure those t.v. cameras are off."

"But what if we get caught? Maybe we should put this off until some other time, maybe Yakavetta will get convicted this time."

"Dere's no maybe's in dis Green Beans, dat bastard has ta go. Da t'ree of ya were dere when ya saw Roc's body in da basement. We can't let him get away with dat; he's gotten away with shit like dat fer too long." Murphy replied, dropping his bag on the floor next to his brother's.

The three detectives stayed a little while longer finalizing their roles in this plan. Once they were all clear on the parts they would play, they walked out of the motel room leaving Smecker in the company of Connor and Murphy. Their father had taken the car out on a dry run to map out the best routes out of the city from the courthouse and the fastest way to the docks from the motel; how to best avoid the traffic trouble spots, and getting an overall one last view of Boston hoping he wouldn't have to go back there again when this was all over.

"Murphy, can I talk to you alone for a couple of minutes?"

Smecker had been silently giving a variety of looks in Connor's general direction, hoping he'd understand that he needed to talk to his brother alone but the movie that was playing had him completely enthralled. Sensing the tension, Connor nodded his head and grabbed his shirt up off the end of the bed as well as his pack of cigarettes and lighter off the night stand. He quietly closed the door behind him leaving his brother in a nearly empty room.

Murphy sat at the rounded dining table taking his guns out of the bag that Dolly had tossed his way. If these were going to be the guns he was going to use to execute Papa Joe he wanted to make sure every moving part was well cleaned and there was no grime inside the barrel that would cause their plans to be ruined.

"One of my best agents out in Utah called while we were on our way over here. She found your Bonnie Lass; says she dyed her hair a darker color, I think she said it was brunette and she cut it short too. All the way up to her neck if I remember right. She's made herself a successful woman out there and is taking care of herself like I told you she could."

"How do ya know it was her and not someone else?"

"She went into the bar, dressed in civilian clothes of course, and caught a glimpse of that bleeding rose tattoo she's got on her back. I know you're probably going to ask how else my agent knew it was her. One of the locals came into the bar and started calling her Róisín. From what my agent told me, she flew out from behind the bar and put the guy on his back, holding a knife to his throat. Told the guy to never call her by that name again or she was going to make sure he never saw the light of day again. My agent nearly arrested her on the spot but she didn't have her badge on her, rookie mistake if you ask me."

"So she went back ta da place where everyt'ing started, is dat what yer telling me? She left me, she left Connor, she left everyt'ing in Boston ta go back ta where she fell down a dark hole dat led ta a world of drugs and murder."

"Is that really any different then what you both did to her? You both left her to take out Yakavetta, your buddy ends up dead, and in four days' time you all will be on a boat back to Ireland. Before I leave, I thought that you should know that my agent did talk to her after that guy left the bar pissing his pants."

"And what did she say, dat we were not'ing more den-"

"Just fucking shut up and listen; for someone who knows at least seven different languages you're pretty fucking stupid, you know that? My agent brought your names up to her while they were just sitting the bar; told her that you both missed her and wanted to see her again before this last hit. Your redhead told my agent that she never forgot either of you but that she could not risk seeing either of you under any circumstance. She left Boston because she was angry with you both for not heeding her warnings; she refuses to come back because she can't watch you turn your backs on her again."

Murphy sat silent in his chair, his hands stilled over the metals of his gun as Smecker's words started sinking in. After a while, when he was sure that Murphy was mulling over his words, Smecker added the name of the city that she was currently residing in should they ever needed to come back and they needed a starting point of where to look her up at. Smecker gathered his suit jacket up off the bed, went to the door and spoke in a low voice to Connor before leaving altogether.

"What did Smecker tell ya?"

"It's not important, let's just focus on getting dis last job done and if ya remind me I'll tell ya on da way back home."

The next four days went by quickly; as the clock struck 7:00 a.m. on the morning of the trial a knock on their door alerted them that Smecker was outside waiting for them. The twins each carried out a duffle bag out of the room, their Da locking the door behind them keeping the tackle box of medical supplies safe until they needed it for their impending trip. An armored car was waiting in the parking lot for them with Greenly standing outside ready to open the doors for them.

Smecker pulled out of the parking lot with the armored car and its load following close behind as they made their way back into the city towards the courthouse. By the time they got there, the trial was in full swing; the judge had it scheduled to start at 8:30 that morning. Smecker parked his car and got out of the driver's side, Dolly stepped out of the passenger side dressed in civilian clothes and made his way to the front entrance of the building. Greenly hopped out of the passenger seat of the armored car, waiting for Smecker to give the go ahead signal.

They were in and out in less than ten minutes as the fire alarm continued to ring out with jurors, reporters, and witnesses pouring out of the doors. Several of the reporters that had not been in the courtroom when the three ended Yakavetta's reign of terror, shoved microphones and cameras into the frightened faces of the on-lookers as they re-told the story of what happened. Smecker had passed the keys to an unmarked car off to their father as they made their exit through the backdoors of the courthouse. The twins climbed into the back seat just as their father had started the car up and put it in gear. They wound their way through the streets of Boston avoiding high traffic, public areas where the police were starting to put the city on lock-down. The more side streets they took, the better off they would be until they reached the highway that led back to their motel room. They had to get their box of supplies and a few other things out before they headed to the docks. Their boat was scheduled to leave Boston at 2:30 the following morning and none of them knew what the journey back home would bring.

The three waited anxiously for night to fall, each keeping watch at the window for any sign that they had been followed. Each time they heard a siren pass by the front of the motel the fear of being caught grew until the sound died out. The phone inside their room remained quiet until close to 11:30 that night when Smecker called to inform them their ship was docked and being loaded.

"How far are we gonna ta take dis Da?" Connor asked, propping himself up on the bed gripping the comforter.

Murphy sat on the other bed, holding his head in one hand with his left leg propped up trying to process everything that happened during the day.

"Da question is not far, da question is: do ya possess da constitution, da depth of faith ta go as far as is needed?" leaning back in the chair closest to the window, the red light of his cigar glowed about the room as his right hand draped over the arm of the chair and the lights of the motel's sign flashed through the blinds. "Ya both need ta get some sleep before we leave. Smecker said he'd meet us at da docks with our papers."

Their Da switched the smoking lamp off that was by his chair and positioned himself to where he could see everything that passed by the window. He heard his sons stirring around in their beds but ignored them almost completely as they started talking to each other in French. Occasionally, he would turn his head in their direction when something piqued his interest but he never said a word to them. They had to be out of the motel by 1:15 to be on the docks in time to meet with Smecker. He had spoken with Smecker in private over the phone with one last request before they left and had the thinnest thread of hope that Smecker was able to pull it off.

Connor had set the alarm to go off at ten after 12 in the morning; neither of them were going to sleep well tonight as the prospect of taking a cargo ship back home loomed over their heads. They had been speaking low enough, hoping that their Da didn't eavesdrop on their conversation but even though this would be their last night in Boston they had hoped to see her one last time. There may not be time enough for them to say what it was they wanted to say to her but if they could only see her before they left they would at least know that, physically, she was alright.

For Connor, sleep came pretty quick even though he spent more than half the time tossing and turning; for Murphy though sleep never came. He laid on top of the comforter staring up at the ceiling; the blanket that he had taken from her apartment was draped over his legs as he began to absentmindedly rub the palm of his hand over the rough patch of skin that had healed over where she had taken her first bullet out of him. Every time he tried to shut his eyes, there was Rocco's face, frozen in shock and disbelief as the gunshot rang out causing him to open his eyes once more.

Murphy reached out and shut the alarm off when it reached its designated time; their bags were already packed up and in the trunk of the car. All they had to do was go down to the car and leave; their Da had already returned the key to their room after letting his sons inside and told the night manager that they would be checking out very early in the morning and wanted to return the key before they left. The night manager never said a word to him as stories of the Saints were re-airing. The images shown were absent of any artists' renderings so the management on staff had no clue that one of the three criminals that the city was looking for was standing right in front of him and the other two were upstairs on the second floor getting things in order to take down to the car.

The car pulled into the docks just as the clock struck 1:00 a.m. Smecker was already on the dock next to the loading ramp waiting for them with their papers in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Handing the manila folder over to the eldest MacManus, Smecker shook their hands in turn wishing them luck for the trip home. The twins stood on the dock looking around at their surroundings when Smecker spoke up.

"She's not here. Your father asked me if I could get a hold of her through my agents out in Utah to see if they could get her to come back to say good-bye. They were never able to get a hold of her but she did want me to give this to you though. She did ask that you not read it until you were all on this boat and were well on your way back to the motherland. She didn't want you to risk staying in the country any longer than you already had too."

Smecker held out his hand to Murphy, extending a folded over piece of paper that had his and Connor's name scribbled on it. The horn blared out overhead and soon the three were on board waiting to take off towards they place they called home. As promised, Murphy waited to read what was on the paper until they had been well out to sea. Taking the paper from the pocket of his pea coat, he sat on the edge of his bed hunched over as he started pouring over the words.

" _By the time you get this, I hope you are well on your way home. I am proud of the men you have become and am glad to have known you. Please do not worry about me; leave me in the past where I belong. Look forward to what the future holds for you. Settle down, have a couple of kids. As the years go by, think of me in memory; smile and laugh as you tell your kids about the good times we had. I will see you both again one day, whether it's in this life or the next._

" _Caoimhe."_

Murphy sat numbly on the edge of his bed as Connor's voice filtered in through the fog that clouded his mind. He never heard a word that his brother was saying but passed the piece of paper over to him. It was no wonder that she had requested that they be well on their way when they decided to read what was written. Had she not told Smecker that he probably would've jumped from the cargo ship and tried to swim back to shore to catch the first flight out to Utah.

"So I guess dis means we'll never see or hear from her again, huh? Maybe we can try and get a hold of Smecker-"

"Don't start with da maybes, she doesn't wanna have anyt'ing ta do with us so just fucking drop it. We have a plan fer when we get back home so let's just follow t'rough with dat and leave da past in da fucking past."

* * *

As the sun rose on the eve of a new day, the media was going wild over the Saints. Sketches had started springing up on the morning news as Sally McBride was shown asking the general public their opinions of the Saints.

The t.v. shut off in the darkened room of a house in one of the more ritzy neighborhoods in Boston. He sat in a leather chair contemplating what the best course of action would be to exact revenge on these Saints for his father's murder. He was at home when his grandmother called him, crying, that her son had been put on his knees and executed inside the courtroom for all to see. If they were smart, those Saints would already be out of the city. He had to think of something that would bring them back, but the question that currently plagued his thoughts was how to best deal with the person that was in the basement of his home, tied down to a chair with a nearly unrecognizable face.

 _And this my dear readers is where I leave you. I truly do appreciate all of the comments you've all left as well as all of the favorites and follows. I never expected this to even go anywhere as this was something I did purely for fun. A HUGE shout out to Valerie E. Mackin for all of the late night talks and read throughs when the writer's block would hit. If you would like to see a continuation of this please let me know otherwise I have another story underway titled_ Decisions, decisions _. Catch ya'll on the flip side._


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